


Sherlock: Give Me A Label (I'll Make Confetti)

by IBegToDreamAndDiffer



Series: Sherlock: With A Thousand Lies (And A Good Disguise) [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Challenge Response, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Family, Homophobia, Light D/s, M/M, Minor Violence, Past Drug Addiction, Romance, Teen Angst, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, but they're teenagers it's to be expected, ooc moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 105
Words: 374,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/487063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IBegToDreamAndDiffer/pseuds/IBegToDreamAndDiffer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gregory Lestrade is the local badboy. He drinks, he smokes, he has sex, but that's what a lot of seventeen-year-old boys do. Not Mycroft Holmes, of course; that posh git wouldn't know what to do with a bloke. That's what Greg thinks until he sees a new side of Mycroft, and every label he's ever used is torn down in seconds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Give Me A Label

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [Sherlock: Dame una etiqueta (la haré confeti)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2514128) by [Lilu Traduce (LilusMischiefs)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilusMischiefs/pseuds/Lilu%20Traduce)
  * Translation into 中文 available: [Sherlock: Give Me A Label (I'll Make Confetti) 给我贴个标签 看我把它撕成碎片](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830119) by [BCKURTFA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BCKURTFA/pseuds/BCKURTFA), [ThermoFluid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThermoFluid/pseuds/ThermoFluid)



> **Disclaimer:** Sherlock belongs to the BBC, Mark Gatiss, and Steven Moffat. The original characters are the property of Arthur Conan Doyle. I own nothing but the plot and make no money from this story.
> 
>  **Author's Note:** A response to the challenge created by the fuckyeahmystradefic blog over on tumblr. Of course my muse decided to give it a go, he's crazy like that. So take one badboy, one posh student, and chuck them in a blender. What do you get? Crazy teenage-sex with Greg and Mycroft as the stars. Badboy!AU.

__

__

 

 

_Beep-beep-beep-beep._

The shrill alarm pierced through the silent morning, and a groan was heard from beneath the jumble of blankets atop the double bed beside the alarm.

_Beep-beep-beep-beep._

There was another groan before a long, tanned arm snaked from beneath the covers, a hand swiping at the plastic and sending it hurtling to the floor.

_Beep-beep-beep-beep._

Gregory Lestrade cursed as he tried to untangle himself from his quilt, eventually going arse-over and smacking into the cold floorboards with a yelp. He swivelled about as he sat, looking for the bloody clock.

_BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-_

'I heard you the first fucking time,' the seventeen-year-old snarled at no-one in particular, flailing about as he pushed the crap lining his bedroom floor aside. He eventually found the bright blue alarm beneath a pair of jeans that'd been under his bed for way too long.

He wrinkled his nose and tugged the alarm forward, pulling the plug from the wall and shutting off the shrill beeping.

Greg groaned in relief and sprawled across the floor on his back, eyes closing against the annoying sunshine that had decided to bathe the room in a soft glow.

It was too early... and bright... and everything just felt _so_ terrible. Of course it was just Greg feeling terrible; getting pissed and shagging some random bloke until 3am tended to leave one feeling achy and sick and generally like they were going to die.

Greg wanted to crawl back under the covers for at least a week, maybe two, unfortunately he'd just got comfortable when his mum ripped the door open.

'Rise and shine, Gregory!' she hollered.

Yeah, his mum had a sick sense of humour. While she hated Greg's drinking, and smoking, and... er, sluttish ways, there wasn't a whole heap she could do about it; you know, other then raid his room and take his smokes, his alcohol, and make sure he had a box of condoms at all times (real embarrassing conversation, that one).

' _Muum_!' Greg whined from somewhere beneath his bed.

'Yes, sweetie?' Maggie Lestrade smiled, pulling the curtains further open. She hummed, 'Oh, it's such a lovely morning.'

Greg grunted.

'Rise and shine, honey, it's time for school.'

' _Noo_.'

'Ah, well you'd be perfectly fine if you weren't out all night galavanting on that bike of yours,' Maggie tisked.

'I wasn't galavanting,' Greg mumbled. 'Don't ride while intoxicated, isn't that what all the cool kids say?'

Maggie tutted and ripped the blankets from her son, who yelped and scrambled about. Maggie sighed and said, 'Look at you.'

Greg had no idea what she was talking about until he looked down. Ah... yes, well that was unfortunate.

Someone had drawn a giant cock on his stomach in permanent marker, with an arrow pointing down to his crotch and the words "objects are smaller than this fucker claims they are".

'When the hell-'

'Up, shower, _now_ ,' Maggie ordered, kicking the teenager in the thigh. 'Honestly, Greg, what are you doing with yourself?'

'Being gorgeous and charming?' Greg tried.

Maggie's eyes darkened and Greg knew he was about to be in serious trouble. His mum might have turned a semi-blind eye to his more illegal habits, but she'd made it her mission in life to put Greg on the straight and narrow. He could have his fun, but she expected him to work hard in school and eventually grow up.

So rather than face his mother's wrath this early in the morning- and with such an awful hangover- Greg darted from his room and down the hall to the bathroom.

 

{oOo}

 

Scrubbing at his stomach with his mum's loofah had provided the following; bright red skin that burned uncomfortably, a black mess across his stomach that _still_ read "objects are smaller than this fucker claims they are", and Maggie's loofah stained black.

Greg yawned and shuffled about as he pulled on his school uniform, not bothering to look in the mirror as he left. Girls claimed the "just rolled out of bed look" suited Greg and made him look like a badboy, while the teachers, cops, and general public said it made him look like a hooligan. Greg didn't really care for their labels; he was him, he didn't care what he looked like, end of story.

Maggie had toast waiting and though it was cold, Greg knew better than to argue. His mum was bustling about fixing everything up and Greg watched with heavy-lidded eyes as he chewed on his breakfast.

When she grabbed her favourite china set from the cupboard, Greg swallowed his mouthful and said, 'Whatchya doin', Mum?'

'Meghan's coming over for tea at four, so you'd better be here, Gregory.'

Greg groaned even as his mum turned to scowl at him. 'Meghan Holmes?' he demanded.

'Yes, dear, Meghan Holmes,' Maggie said.

'But she's _so_ annoying,' Greg grunted. 'Gregory, how are you? Gregory, are you doing well in school? Gregory, don't you know what a shower is?'

Maggie snorted as her son continued to mimic the older woman.

'Honestly, she's got a stick _so_ far up her arse-'

'Gregory!' Maggie chided.

'Sorry, sorry,' Greg mumbled. 'But honestly, why do you put up with that woman?'

'Well between work at the hospital, and taking care of you...' she trailed off to squeeze Greg's cheek, the teenager glaring and swatting her hand away, '... I don't have a social life,' Maggie continued. 'So it's either tea with Meghan Holmes, or suffer the unbelievably boring women who make up your classmates' mothers.'

'Mrs Holmes _is_ one of the unbelievably boring women who make up my classmates' mothers,' Greg reminded her.

'Yes, but she has interesting stories,' Maggie said. 'And her eldest is a charming young man.'

Greg didn't say anything to that. Maggie knew there was no love lost between her son and Meghan's. Mycroft Holmes was everything Greg hated; brilliant, charming, polite to a fault, and with absolutely no personality. Honestly, Greg found walls more stimulating then Mycroft Holmes, and that was only because they were a good place to snog a guy against.

'Gregory, please, I don't ask a lot of you,' Maggie said, Greg looking up at her. 'Just be here at four, okay? And be nice to Mycroft.'

She was giving him her very best wounded-puppy dog face, and Greg had never been able to fight it. Sure, he was a bit of a rebel, but his mum knew how to work him.

So he gave a loud, ' _Fine_ ,' and checked the time on his mobile as he stuffed the rest of his toast into his mouth. 'But 'M not talkin' 'bout 'omework,' he mumbled through his mouthful.

Maggie just beamed and kissed his cheek. 'Yes, yes; you be careful, okay?'

Greg nodded and gave her a hug before grabbing his helmet, keys, and leather jacket. He had his school blazer stuffed into his backpack, and pulled on and zipped up his leather jacket before shouldering it on. He climbed onto his jet-black bike- nothing fancy because he wasn't old enough to ride anything _really_ powerful- and pulled his helmet on before starting the engine.

It roared to life and Greg let it warm up a bit before rolling down the driveway and zipping onto the road.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg sighed as he turned his bike off, sitting astride the machine for a few minutes as he pocketed his keys and checked his voicemail. The Ibuprofen he'd swallowed in the shower was finally kicking in, reducing his migrain to a small thump in his temples. Greg felt like it was going to be a long day as he finally climbed off his bike.

He'd barely left the carpark before he was slapped across the back of the head. Greg turned to see Dylan Saunders and Joe Wright, two of his best mates. Dylan was usually the one who hit him so Greg wrapped an arm around the other teenager's neck and squeezed tightly.

'Guh, lemme go!' Dylan shouted.

'Fuck you and fuck your requests,' Greg said, holding on tight as Dylan bucked. 'Give me one good reason, Saunders.'

'I'll... I'll... let you see me naked?' Dylan suggested.

Greg snorted. 'As if I'd wanna see your hairy-arsed body, you fucker.' He tripped Dylan over, the shorter boy ending up sprawled across the grass, as Joe snickered and clapped Greg's hand.

'Some-fucking- _party_ ,' Joe said, seperating each word and moving his hands further and further apart as he spoke. 'Sally Donovan let me touch her-'

'Guh, straight-germs!' Greg shouted and shoved Joe away. Greg had been openly gay for years, and no one cared. There were about six or so gay guys and girls throughout the high school, and thankfully there had never been any major problems apart from name-calling.

'Give us a kiss, Greggie, I'll make you see how sexy chicks are!' Joe said, rushing at Greg and trying to hug him.

'Fuck off, cunt,' Greg said, ducking and weaving. Thankfully Joe was heavier than him and tired out quicker, kicking a rock at Greg as Dylan swept grass from his uniform. 'Anyway,' Greg said, unzipping his jacket and tugging his school shirt up, 'which one of you fucking pricks did this?'

Dylan and Joe read the words still stencilled across Greg's stomach before howling with laughter. Greg scowled as his mates laughed, slapped their knees, and stared at Greg with teary-eyes.

'It isn't fucking funny,' Greg scowled, 'my mum saw this and-'

'Mummy still giving you baths?' Dylan cut in.

Greg chased after him and Dylan ran for all he was worth, Greg eventually giving up and trekking around the Boster Building. Dylan and Joe followed, the latter pulling out a cigarette with Greg.

'So you disappeared around midnight,' Joe commented as he sucked back on his ciggie.

'Mm, went off with... erm...' Greg frowned, trying to remember the bloke's name, as his mates snickered. 'Fuck it, he goes to St Mary's across town... er...'

'Boy slut,' Dylan commented.

'Fuck you and fuck your mother,' Greg said.

'Ooh, nasty boy slut,' Dylan grinned.

Greg rolled his eyes and puffed on his cigarette. They chatted about the party a bit more, Joe saying how he'd passed out in the sitting room only to be woken when his sister poured ice down his back, before the fourth member of the group arrived. Michael Dimmock- who kicked anyone who called him _Michael_ \- was Greg's only bisexual friend, and the two often swapped stories and spoke about what men they liked best. Of course Dimmock wasn't nearly as much of a... slut, as Greg, but they could still talk about it.

'Hear about that mystery guy who's apparently a good screw?' Dimmock said.

'Who?' Greg frowned.

'Some guy's apparently been goin' about shagging blokes and he's fucking amazing,' Dimmock told Greg. 'John texted me and said Andy got fucked real good by this guy, who was _less_ than happy with Andy's performance.'

'Andy's a little shit, who cares?' Dylan sniffed.

Dimmock gave Dylan a half-hearted glare, but only because Andy was his girlfriend's cousin. He turned back to Greg and said, 'So yeah, there's some bloke out there who's a better shag than you.'

'No way,' Greg said.

Dimmock shrugged. 'That's what Andy said.'

'Well he's fucking lying, no one's better than me,' Greg said, though he was still scowling. He prided himself on giving his part-time shags the best sex of their life... who the fuck was Andy, making up shit about some other dude? 'He probably just wants another go,' Greg mumbled.

Dimmock and the others snorted.

'Seriously, I fuck him once and he wants to be my boyfriend,' Greg said, finishing off his second cigarette.

'Didn't he get the memo that you're a whore?' Joe asked.

'Apparently not,' Greg said. The morning bell rang loudly across the ground and Greg and the others all trooped to class.

 

{oOo}

 

Andy wasn't lying. At lunch he went into _major_ detail about this guy- Mickey or Mikey or Matt, Andy couldn't remember- and what he did with his tongue, his fingers and hands, his cock and- anyway, this guy was good.

'Sorry, Greg,' Andy had blushed. 'I mean, you're definitely amazing in bed, but this guy... damn, he's just really fucking amazing.'

Greg glared at the younger boy before storming off, heading towards the un-official smokers area. It was the only party of the school that the teachers didn't look at and the students took the oppotunity to sneak cigarettes during the day.

Greg was so busy in thought that he didn't see him until it was too late- he collided heavily with someone and they both stumbled back, Greg hitting the concrete path and the other body stumbling into the wall.

'Jesus,' Greg snarled, rubbing his aching elbow. 'What the fuck?'

'I apologise, but you should have been looking where you were going.'

Greg groaned; he knew that voice. And sure enough, when he looked up, there stood Mycroft Holmes.

He was a tall boy, about three months younger than Greg if Greg remembered correctly, with short ginger-brown hair combed perfectly, ice-blue eyes, and pale skin. He wore his uniform immaculately, his school bag always buldging with books even while he carried a folder and more books under his arm.

Mycroft held a hand out politely but Greg ignored him, instead hopping to his feet and brushing dirt from his uniform. He was about to go- he really had no interest in speaking with Mycroft- when the younger boy said, 'It would be polite for you to apologise.'

Greg turned, a frown tugging at his face. 'S'cuse me?'

'You bumped into me because you weren't watching where you were going,' Mycroft said. 'I apologised to you, it's only polite to return the words.'

'Why the fuck should I?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft tilted his head and Greg scowled. There was something about Mycroft Holmes that _really_ got under his skin; he was... too polite, too neat, too perfect. Everything he did and said felt like it was pre-rehersed, like Mycroft was just acting that way to please everyone else. Greg hated fakes, so he hated Mycroft.

'I see, you're going to continue to hate me, despire the fact that we don't really know each other, apart from the occassional teas with our mothers.'

'Don't say that outloud!' Greg hissed, head darting around. God help him if anyone heard that he was spending time outside of school with Mycroft Holmes.

'You care too much what people think,' Mycroft stated suddenly.

'Whatever, just get lost, Holmes,' Greg said.

'I'll see you this afternoon, Gregory,' was Mycroft's response.

Greg gritted his teeth as he stormed through the school. Like he needed a fucking reminder about _that._


	2. Tea With The Holmeses

Three-thirty came too quickly in Greg's opinion. And no matter how hard he tried, not one single teacher put him on detention, not even when he threw Dimmock's bag out a second-storey window. His mates all laughed and slapped his back as Greg climbed onto his bike, the dark-haired boy scowling as he stuck his key in the ignition.

Suddenly feeling like he was being watched, Greg twisted around on his bike. Mycroft Holmes was opening the door of his dark-green, two-door Jaguar convertable. He placed his bookbag and folder in the back before turning, eyes locking onto Greg's.

Greg frowned, but Mycroft simply smiled politely and climbed into his car. Shaking his head, Greg tugged his helmet on, made sure his phone and bag were secure, and turned his bike on.

Mycroft's expensive car was still sitting in the carpark when Greg took off, pulling out into traffic and speeding away with a loud roar.

 

{oOo}

 

Maggie was in full host mode when Greg walked through the door and made her son run to his room. He promised to be quick and purposely dragged his feet when his mum disappeared back into the kitchen. Greg didn't understand why Maggie put so much effort in when Meghan Holmes came to visit; it's not like they were best gal-pals or anything. Hell, Greg didn't think Maggie even _liked_ Mrs Holmes.

But he supposed she wanted the company; after all, Greg'd be pretty shitty too if he only had himself to hang out with... though he had some pretty fun times with himself.

He tossed his uniform and bag aside, tugging on a tight pair of black jeans with a white and black studded belt. Three chains hung from his jeans, and weren't covered in the slightest by Greg's black, tight-fitting Green Day shirt. He bent to pull his black high-top Chucks on before brushing a hand through his hair and checking the time.

Three-fifty, so he had ten minutes for a sneaky cigarette.

Greg pushed his bedroom window open and sat on the windowsill as he grabbed the jar he used for his cigarettes butts. As long as his mum couldn't smell it she wouldn't raid his bedroom.

When when it ticked around to 3:59, Greg stubbed his ciggie out, sprayed himself with deoderant, and went to greet the Holmeses with his mum.

Meghan Holmes was a tall woman with thick ginger-brown hair that she always kept tied back in a tight bun, pale white skin, high cheek-bones, and ice-blue eyes. She wore "old people clothes", as Greg called them; usually jackets and trousers that matched, or some ridiculously puffy shirt with an equally puffy skirt.

Mycroft was standing by her side, hands clasped behind his back, wearing pressed trousers and a wrinkle-free white button-up. Added over the top was a light-blue sweater.

 _Brings out his eyes_ , Greg mused before mentally slapping himself. Hell no, he was _not_ attracted to Mycroft Holmes!

Meghan did the "kiss on each cheek" thing with Maggie before Mycroft stepped forward to delicately shake Maggie's hand.

'Ms Lestrade, thank you for inviting me to your lovely home,' Mycroft said.  
Greg rolled his eyes as his mother thanked Mycroft and shut the door. The other teen was _such_ a fucking poofter, and not in the good way.

They trooped into the dining room and Greg sat heavily, his mum shooting him a warning look. Mycroft held his own mother's chair out for her and she thanked him in her dainty yet sharp voice before Mycroft took his own seat.

'Gregory, you're looking...' Mrs Holmes trailed off as she looked over his tight shirt.

Greg folded his arms and said, 'Yeah, you too.'

She wrinkled her nose and Mycroft cut in. 'One must be comfortable when at home, Mummy, surely you agree?'

 _Mummy_ , Greg thought with a sneer at the other boy.

'Of course, of course,' Meghan nodded. 'But when having guests over, you should always look your best.' She glared at Greg for good effect, the teenager having to fight hard not to stick his tongue out at her.

Mycroft smiled slightly as Maggie came in with a tray of tea and chocolate digestives. Greg immediately grabbed a handful of buscuits and shoved one into his mouth, chewing extra loudly when Meghan sniffed at him.

Maggie poured them all tea and Greg sipped his politely, though really wished there was scotch or some other alcohol in it. How else were you supposed to get through a few hours with Meghan and Mycroft Holmes?

He let the conversations wash over him, only answering with a, 'Yes,' or, 'It's fine,' when questions were directed at him (he got a pinch from his mother each time). Mycroft, of course, was a pleasant and charming young man, going into just enough detail to satisfy Meghan and Maggie. Greg took to death-staring him, and only ever received a polite smile in response.

'You're not very talkative, Gregory,' Meghan commented suddenly, making Greg look up from where he'd been counting the flowers on the table-cloth.

'Erm...' he didn't have an excuse ready.

Thankfully, his mother did. 'Oh, yes, Gregory was up late last night studying,' Maggie lied, smiling at Greg. While Greg never failed his classes, he could be doing better if actually studied and didn't go out all night drinking and shagging.

Greg pasted a smile on his face as Meghan raised an eyebrow, looking very much like her son. 'Is that so?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, 'just studying hard, you know.'

'Were you studying biology?' Mycroft asked suddenly, an evil-glint in his eyes.

'No,' Greg sniffed.

Mycroft's lips turned into a smirk. 'Oh, I thought I saw you with some _books_ about the male form at school yesterday, so I thought perhaps that's what you were studying cells in the human body, or something to that affect.'

He shrugged one shoulder and picked up his tea cup while Greg scowled. Okay, so he'd been looking over a porn mag with Dimmock at school and almost been caught, so what?

'Do you find biology interesting, Gregory?' Meghan asked.

'Erm... y-yeah, s'alright,' Greg stuttered.

Mycroft's smirk widened and he had to hide it with his teacup. Greg seriously considered kicking him under the table.

'Do tell us all about it,' Mycroft said. He and his mother looked pointedly at Greg, who gaped.

What followed was half-an-hour of Greg trying to remember everything he'd ever learned about biology. It didn't help that Mycroft picked up on his weaknessess and would ask even more questions.

That was the other thing Greg hated about Mycroft; he and his brother knew _everything_. If you'd had sex the night before, they knew. If you'd forgotton your homework, they knew. They knew what you'd had for breakfast, what you did during the morning, what your job was, your parents' jobs, how you felt about people, absolutely _everything._

Sherlock said he simply "deduced" things, and Mycroft had never commented on it. No, the elder Holmes just smiled, nodded at you, and left you in whatever shit his "deductions" had caused with the people around you.

When the inquisition finally stopped, Greg folded his arms, slouched down in his seat, and glared at Mycroft, wishing he could shoot laser beams from his eyes. Mycroft just smiled politely at him while he spoke to Maggie and Meghan.

Two hours after arriving, Mycroft put his china cup down delicately and turned to his mother. 'Mummy, I have to tutor Benjamin tonight.'

'Oh, yes, that's right,' Mrs Holmes nodded, checking the gold watch clasped around her delicate wrist. 'Will you be okay to drive yourself?'

'Of course, Mummy,' Mycroft said. He stood and said, 'Thank you for having me, Ms Lestrade, it's been a pleasure.'

'You're always welcome, dear,' Maggie said, Greg choking on his tea when Mycroft clasped his mother's hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. What was worse was his mother was blushing- _fucking blushing_!

'Are you alright, Gregory?' Mycroft asked, turning his gaze to the other teenager.

Greg coughed and banged his fist against his chest. 'Yeah, j-just fine,' he choked out.

Mycroft smiled before kissing his mother's cheek and saying, 'Have a pleasent evening.'

He disappeared and Greg slouched in his seat, ignoring the tut Mrs Holmes threw his way. Well at least now he wouldn't be stuck with Mycroft Holmes all night. If luck was on his side he could slip away in an hour and hide out in his room.

That was unless his mum and Mrs Holmes decided they _really_ had to look at Greg's baby photos and discuss their precious childrens' early years.

It turned out the world was a cruel bitch and Greg spent his night sitting on the sofa wedged between the two women, face turning red as his mother and Meghan cooed over naked baby photos of him.

Greg cursed Mycroft Holmes. He could be out partying and snogging some bloke, but _noo._  
 _Fuck Mycroft fucking Holmes_ , he thought as another naked photo was pointed out.

 

{oOo}

 

'You missed a killer party last night,' Joe said as soon as he, Dimmock and Dylan met up with Greg at school.

Greg scowled. 'Well my mother wanted me home to have tea with her dear, dear friend, Meghan Holmes.' His mates snickered. 'It's not funny,' Greg huffed, which just made them laugh that much more. 'That woman is one stick up her arse away from talking like the fucking Queen; honestly, I've never met a more uptight, posh, boring fucking woman in my life.'

The laughing had stopped, and the other three boys were staring pointedly over Greg's shoulder. Greg frowned before turning, and jolted when he saw Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes.

The younger Holmes was scowling openly, giving Greg his best "I-will-kill-you-slowly" look (and with all the frogs, hamsters, and other small creatures Sherlock had managed to send to the afterlife during various "experiments", Greg didn't doubt that the younger boy would actually kill him).

Mycroft was just staring at Greg with those cold blue eyes, his uniform impeccable as usual, a plain white folder tucked under one arm. When Sherlock opened his mouth, Mycroft said, 'Calm down, brother, and go have a cigarette.'

The thirteen-year-old scowled at Mycroft, who's ice-blue eyes immediately snapped to him. Sherlock gulped down whatever he'd been about to say, threw one last glare at Greg, and stormed away.

'Erm... I'm sorry,' Greg said. He might not have liked Mycroft, but he hadn't meant for the other teenager to hear him.

'That's quite alright,' Mycroft said, 'it's no secret how you feel about my family.'

Greg could feel a blush working up his neck and tried hard to fight it down; blushing in front of Mycroft Holmes? No, that just wasn't on.

'Yeah, well, I'm still sorry,' Greg said.

'There a problem here?'

Greg's friends immediately backed away when BJ Masters appeared. The guy was built like a brick-shithouse, as were the rest of the his mates, and Greg took a nervous step back.

'No, there's no problem,' Mycroft said coolly.

It was no secret that Mycroft's father, Siger Holmes, employed half the men in their town. If anyone crossed Mycroft or Sherlock they'd find their father out of work faster than Greg could get laid.

'You sure?' BJ asked, glaring at Greg as he stood beside Mycroft.

'Quite,' the other boy answered. 'We were just chatting.' He paused, eyes roaming over Greg. 'Weren't we, Gregory?'

'Y-Yeah,' Greg nodded quickly. He was popular enough not to be a regular target for BJ and his mates, but that could always change.

BJ snorted and he and his buddies slinked away, no doubt to go bully someone else. Greg looked at Mycroft nervously, who just smiled politely.

'Have a pleasent day,' he said and walked away.

Greg breathed a sigh of relief as Dylan said, 'Gives me the creeps, that guy.'

'His brother too,' Joe agreed before turning back to Greg. 'Anyway, the party last night was _epic_. The cops broke it up around two, and this Martin dude, who's a mate of Eric's, was caught shagging some bloke in the pool house, but the guy managed to talk them out of trouble.'

Dimmock was grinning widely. 'Martin had to walk home in his boxers 'cause someone had nicked his clothes, it was fucking hilarious.'

Greg groaned and cursed his mother silently as they walked to their lockers.

'I think it was that bloke, you know the one who's reputation is starting to rival yours?' Dimmock said.

'Shut up,' Greg said.

'Yeah, no one's a bigger boy slut than our Greggie,' Dylan said. He wrapped an arm around Greg's neck and ruffled his already messy hair to prove his point, and Greg shoved him away.

'I dunno, Martin was raving on the bus this morning about this dude,' Dimmock said. 'Seriously, he sounds like a fucking sex God or something.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg said, 'shut up before I put my foot up your arse.'

'That's the only action you'll be getting any time soon,' Dimmock snickered, 'what with your dates with Mycroft Holmes and your _mummy_.'

Greg chased Dimmock down the corridor and slammed him into the wall, Dylan and Joe cackling as the other boy limped to his locker.


	3. A Glimpse

This was what Greg needed; drunk teenagers, sexy dudes, and no tea with Mycroft fucking Holmes. It was finally the weekend and Greg had parties Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night, so he'd be thoroughly hungover come Monday morning.

Not that he cared, of course. He just wanted some cock. Plus there was no school Monday, Greg could have a lie in and try to stop his brain exploding.

The party was at BJ Masters' house because his parents always went away for work on the weekends, leaving BJ and his older brother Stewart to throw wild parties for teenagers.

Greg got a lift from Dimmock and his girlfriend, Molly Hooper. Molly was the designated driver because she didn't drink, and Dimmock never had more than three or four when he was with his girlfriend.

So with a garanteed lift at midnight, and it nearing seven, Greg moved through the crowd looking for a guy to ride.

His first look turned up nothing even remotely shaggable, but that could change. A lot of people turned up after ten or eleven, and others looked a sight better once Greg had ingested six or seven drinks.

So he flopped onto the couch beside Dimmock and Molly to wait. The girl sitting on the end shrieked as Greg bounced her, her cup going arse-over and slopping beer all over her tight shirt and mini-skirt.

She turned to shout at Greg, only to pause and drink him in, making Greg sigh. Girls from the Catholic school across town, or those who lived in the neighbouring towns, didn't know that Greg was gay (which was weird, considering he'd shagged a fair amount of guys in those parts) and always tried to flirt with him.

This girl really did give it her best.

She leaned over, boobs nearly popping free from her pink shirt, and said, 'Looks like I need a new drink.'

'Yeah,' Greg grunted.

The girl placed her hand on his thigh and Dimmock snickered, while Molly, who was sitting on her boyfriend's lap, blushed brightly. Greg looked down at the hand as the girl said, 'Would you get me one, cutie? I'll make it worth your while.'

She breathed beer-smelling breath all over him and her hand slowly moved up to his crotch.

Greg grabbed her wrist and quickly pulled her hand away, saying, 'Erm, that's fine.'

The girl pouted and shuffled closer, boobs rubbing suggestively against his arm and making Greg cringe. 'Come on,' she said and pressed her lips to his ear. 'I'll make _you_ come.'

Greg shot sideways, and Dimmock protested loudly when Molly almost spilled her cup of lemonade. 'I'm flattered, really,' Greg said, inching further away from the girl, 'but I'm gay.'

She frowned. 'What?'

'I'm gay, I like dick,' Greg said pointedly. 'Near me, on me, _in_ me, take your pick; I. Like. _Dudes_.'

He pushed her completely clear and the girl huffed, standing quickly. Beer dripped down her legs and she threw her empty cup at Greg.

'Fuck you too!' Greg shouted as she stormed away. 'Fucking women.'

'Hey, no need to be mean,' Molly said, poking him with her foot.

'Yeah, well _you_ aren't trying to sleep with me,' Greg told her. 'So you're alright.'

'She wouldn't even if you swung that way,' Dimmock said.

'Why not? I'm fucking awesome,' Greg grinned.

Dimmock rolled his eyes as Molly blushed brighter than before. 'She has taste, fuckwit.'

'How can she when she's with you?' Greg bit back. He dodged a smack from Dimmock and said, 'No offence, Molly, but drop this cock and get a real man.'

'He is a real man,' Molly beamed and kissed Dimmock quickly.

'Guh, you straights will be the death of us all,' Greg said and disappeared to hunt.

Greg went into the kitchen where the keg was and poured himself a new drink before he went man-looking again. He was about to take a sip when someone bumped into him.

He heard a soft, 'Sorry,' and frowned; that voice was familiar. He turned quickly and saw a flash of ginger-brown hair, as well as a gorgeous arse packed into tight leather trousers, before the guy disappeared.

'Hey, wait!' Greg shouted. It didn't matter if the guy wasn't Greg's type, he had a damn fine arse. Greg pushed through the various people milling about and into the sitting room. But it was almost ten, and the place was packed with teenagers in various states of inhebriation.

The music had been cranked up and sweaty bodies grinded against one another, but Greg couldn't see anyone wearing leather trousers. He spotted John Ralling getting dragged outside (and looking pretty damn happy about it) and cursed that even a straight guy had found someone fun for the night.

Greg swore again and chugged down half his beer before making his way through the crowd.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg didn't find his leather-trousers guy, but did get a quick blow job outside the bathroom from some dude he couldn't remember. The cops had broken the party up at midnight and a few people had been carted off to their parents'. Greg had been dumped outside his house by Dimmock and Molly and had giggled to himself stupidly as he'd climbed through his bedroom window.

He woke around midday feeling like shit, but had a shower, rinsed the crap out of his mouth, and took some Ibuprofen before heading out. Thankfully his mum was working at the hospital and Greg could get out without a twenty-minute lecture about safe sex.

He rode his bike to the local Tesco's, the only real place you could get any peace and quiet without adults or the cops bugging you. Greg went through the McDonalds first and bought himself a couple of cheeseburgs- the very best hangover food- before pulling into the Tesco's car park and towards the back.

Tesco's was surrounded on three sides by houses and the McDonalds, and the trees from the fast food side were large and overhanging, giving Greg and his mates some shade when it hit summer.

Greg parked close to the fence and pulled his helmet off, setting it on the ground as he sat on the gutter. He was on his third cheeseburger when Dimmock turned up in his Dad's old BMW, smirking at Greg's sunglasses.

'How are you?' Dimmock shouted, forcing Greg to try and kick him. He'd forgotton he was sitting and fell, wincing as his head hit the dirt.

Dimmock laughed loudly as Greg struggled back up. 'You're a fucking cunt, Dimmo.'

'With a gorgeous arse,' Dimmock said and turned, jutting his butt out. Greg slapped him and Dimmock said, 'Oi, that's Molly's.'

'What's Molly want with your saggy behind?' Greg asked, throwing a cheeseburger at Dimmock.

The other teenager sat and peeled the oiley paper open. 'It hasn't welcomed over a hundred dicks, for one,' he said and tore a chunk from the burger.

'It ain't a hundred, dickhead,' Greg growled.

'Gettin' close, though,' Dimmock said. 'Aren't you sick of being a whore?'

'No, sex is fantastic,' Greg said, Dimmock rolling his eyes. 'Hey, if I can find someone as fan-fucking-tastic in bed as I am, I'll give up my slutty ways.'

Dimmock snorted. 'How often do you actually shag in a bed?'

'Erm...' Greg trailed off and Dimmock chuckled.

'Sex is better when it's with one person who actually likes you for you, and not for how big your cock is,' the other boy said.

Greg poked his tongue out and Dimmock threw his lighter at him, Greg using it to spark up a cigarette. He drew back and said, 'Thanks, Dimmo.'

'Shut it, boy slut.' Greg flipped him off. 'Anyway,' Dimmock smirked, 'mystery-dude struck again.'

'Mystery-dude?' Greg questioned.

'Mm, the one Andy was raving about,' Dimmock said, polishing off his cheeseburger. 'He fucked John well and good.'

Joe and Dylan weren't there yet so Greg asked for details. After Dimmock had given them, he asked, 'Straight John or Bi John?'

'Straight John,' Dimmock said, smiling when Greg's eyebrows went up. 'You know John Watson's in love with Sherlock Holmes, he'd never shag some random bloke. Besides, that guy's only thirteen.'

'I lost my virginity when I was fourteen,' Greg reminded him.

'We're not all filthy little pricks,' Dimmock said.

'Fuck you,' Greg said. 'So not John Watson, who's _so_ gay for Holmes it ain't funny, but John Ralling, who's as _straight as they come_ , fucked some random bloke?'

'He came back into the house dishevelled and mouthing that some guy called Mikey had ridden him until he came twice,' Dimmock said, nicking a fag from Greg. 'This was when you were upstairs with that blonde dude,' he added when Greg looked confused. 'Anyway, I was just in Tesco's and he and Andy were talking about it, Andy said it sounded like the same guy.'

'Fucking hell,' Greg said. So there was really some dude out there who was apparantly a better shag then Greg. A guy who could convince the straightest blokes into a quick tumble during a party.

'Poor Greggie, you'll lose your title of Biggest Whore if you don't watch out,' Dimmock snickered, blowing smoke in his face.

'Fuck off, Dimmock, you know how good I am,' Greg growled.

He and Dimmock had had sex once and both agreed they were better off as friends. Greg hadn't been looking for a real relationship then, where Dimmock had, so they'd broken it off before it could really begin. And now Greg was still slowly sleeping his way through every gay, bi, and curious guy in the area, while Dimmock was seeing Molly.

'Yeah, yeah,' Dimmock nodded, blowing smoke rings. 'But I guess this Mikey guy is better.'

Greg scowled and ground his cigarette out. He couldn't afford to lose any potential shags to some other bloke.

Dylan and Joe arrived together. They never really planned to meet and hang out at Tesco's, but usually on a Saturday after a massive party, they all arrived around one to hang out and fuck around.

Joe tapped Greg on the head, who looked up at him through a cloud of smoke. 'You drove Hayley Rogers right into my lap, Greggie.'

'Who the fuck's Hayley Rogers?' Greg asked.

'You probably know her better as Blonde-I-Poured-Beer-Over,' Dylan said, ripping open a packet of crisps.

Greg frowned and Dimmock said, 'Remember before you got wasted, that blonde chick who ended up covered in beer when you sat down?' When Greg nodded, he said, 'I think that's who they're talking about.'

'Oh,' Greg said. 'Wait, the chick who hit on me?'

'Yeah, she complained about some fag being an arse to her and came looking for a real man,' Joe grinned. 'And boy did she come _hard_.'

Greg wrinkled his nose at the imagery- not that he really knew what women looked like beneath their clothes- and said, 'Well she was hitting on me, I tried to be nice the first time.'

Dimmock snickered. 'And after that you told her you like having a dick in your arse.'

'Well it's true,' Greg shrugged.

Dylan poked his tongue out and Joe said, 'Seriously, Greg, you'd get laid a lot more if you swung our way; there's only so many gays and you've fucked most of them.'

'Being gay isn't a choice, arsehole,' Greg said, throwing a rock at him.

He noticed that Dylan rolled his eyes and frowned, but shook his head and let it go.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg's mum called around four to meet her inside Tesco's for some food shopping and Greg parted with his mates to go see her. Maggie grabbed a trolley and pushed it through the aisles with Greg following behind and texting on his phone.

Like every other time they went shopping for _anything_ , Maggie asked Greg what he thought. And Greg, like every other time they went shopping, grunted, shrugged or nodded. He wasn't helpful, but God forbid if Maggie got the wrong noodles, or chocolate bars, or anything else Greg used.

The cheeseburgers a few hours earlier hadn't filled him and Greg was jiggling about his mum wanted to leave so he could go grab something else. She told him to wait until they got home and make a sandwich or something, and Greg demanded they go now. Of course Maggie ignored him and Greg scowled.

They were almost done when Greg spotted Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes, the two standing either side a woman with a shock of grey hair. Greg had seen her before; she was Mycroft and Sherlock's babysitter (or _maid_ as Sherlock had been saying since he was eleven, because he damn well didn't need a fucking babysitter).

Greg ignored them but Maggie spotted the two younger men and beamed as she pushed the trolley towards them.

' _Mum_ ,' Greg groaned.

'Oh, hush,' Maggie said. 'Mycroft, Sherlock.'

Sherlock scowled at Maggie, though turned it into a grimace-like smile when Mycroft nudged him. The elder Holmes turned and said, 'Ms Lestrade, lovely to see you. How are you this afternoon?'

'Fine, thank you, Mycroft,' Maggie smiled, eyes looking at the woman between the Holmes boys.

'Mrs Lander, this is Margaret Lestrade, the mother of my classmate, Gregory,' Mycroft said. Greg rolled his eyes at the polite-wrapped bullshit that had just spewed from Mycroft's mouth.

'Lovely to meet you, Mrs Lestrade,' Mrs Lander smiled.

'Oh, it's just Ms Lestrade, no Mrs,' Maggie said.

Mrs Lander apologised before turning to Mycroft. 'I'll just be five minutes, okay?'

'Like we care,' Sherlock grunted, while Mycroft said, 'Of course, take your time.'

Mrs Lander disappeared down an aisle and Mycroft turned back to Greg and Maggie.

'How are you, Gregory?' he asked politely.

'Oh, just brilliant,' Greg muttered sarcastically.

Mycroft smiled politely at him before talking with Maggie, while Sherlock glared at Greg and Greg glared right back. Suddenly the younger Holmes said, 'You went out drinking last night.'

Mycroft stiffened and turned to see Sherlock smirking at Greg, who scowled.

'So what?' Greg sniffed.

'You're not eighteen, it's illegal,' Sherlock stated. His bright blue eyes rolled over Greg lazily before he said, 'And you let another boy suck your-'

Mycroft clamped a hand over Sherlock's mouth and the younger Holmes ripped and tugged at his fingers but couldn't get them free.

'I apologise for my brother,' Mycroft said quickly, 'he doesn't know how to _keep things to himself_!'

He hissed the last four words and gave Sherlock a pointed look, the shorter boy rolling his eyes. Mycroft let him go and Sherlock scrubbed at his lips. 'I know how to keep secrets, Mycroft.' His eyes swivelled to rest on his brother. ' _Don't_ I?'

Greg was surprised to see real anger on Mycroft's face; usually the auburn-haired boy showed either politeness, kindness, or a blank face. But right then he was glaring angrily at Sherlock, who smiled widely and folded his arms, giving Mycroft a look that cleary said _I-Win-You-Fucker_.

Mycroft cleared his throat and turned to a confused Maggie and smirking Greg. 'Yes, well, Sherlock and I must be going,' Mycroft said quickly, flashing them a fake smile. 'Ms Lestrade, Gregory, have a wonderful day.'

Maggie said goodbye and headed off to join a line, while Greg watched as Mycroft dragged his brother down an aisle, hissing in his ear. Sherlock was grinning madly.

'Fucking weirdos,' Greg muttered and went to join his mum.

 

{oOo}

 

'Have you done your homework?' Maggie asked as Greg headed through the sitting room. He was dressed in tight red jeans, a black _Muse_ shirt, with a thin red jacket tugged on and his usual leather bracelets and necklaces. The party was a few streets away from from Greg's and Greg had decided to walk so he could get plastered.

'Erm... yeah, I did most of it,' Greg said. Maggie, who was sitting on the sofa watching some romantic move, turned and popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth, one eyebrow going up. 'Well,' Greg corrected, 'I did _most_ of it.'

Maggie tutted.

'Come on, Mum, I'll get it done. It's only Saturday,' Greg said.

'And you'll spend all of Sunday night partying at some idiot's house,' Maggie said.

'There's no school Monday, I can do it then,' Greg said.

Maggie sighed and looked him over. 'You're staying in all of Monday and doing it, got that?'

Greg knew better than to fight his mum and nodded, heading out after she'd nodded in approval.


	4. The Real Mycroft Holmes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Chapter beta-d by chasingriver.

Different house, same people, and Greg was getting frustrated. He hadn't been laid since the weekend before and was getting annoyed; a blow job just wouldn't cut it.

Dimmock had headed outside early on to phone Molly- that boy was so whipped- and Joe had caught sight of a pretty seventeen-year-old wearing denim short-shorts that were trying to disappear up her arse. Dylan was chatting to Matt Sanders and BJ Masters, the latter with his arm wrapped around Sally Donovan, who was starting to look bored.

Greg was on his fifth drink when he spotted a blonde boy, probably about eighteen, with gorgeous blue eyes and a slim body. He was considering putting the moves on the guy- and hopefully getting a fucking _shag_ \- when he bashed into someone.

Greg groaned and rubbed his arm as he turned to face the guy he'd crashed into-

\- only to almost drop his drink and fall right over.

He was standing face-to-face with Mycroft Holmes... just not a Mycroft Holmes he was used to seeing. If Greg hadn't spent hours in the boy's company during those stupid tea parties, he might have mistaken him for someone else.

But no... no this was _definitely_ Mycroft Holmes.

The tall, normally posh boy was dressed in black; black leather trousers that left _nothing_ to the imagination, a tight black t-shirt over his skinny torso, and a well-fitted black jacket that had silver buckles all over the front and cuffs. His ginger-brown hair was a mess and he had thick eyeliner marking his blue eyes, as well as dark eyeshadow smudged across his lids. Add to that the tongue-piercing Greg could see, as well as the black nail polish Mycroft had painted on, and Greg's lower half was taking a _definite_ interest in Mycroft Holmes.

'Lestrade,' Mycroft said, pulling himself up and checking to make sure he hadn't spilt his drink or dropped his cigarette- yes, that was a cup of beer in his left hand, a half-smoked cigarette held between his right index and middle fingers.

'I... er... huh?' Greg stuttered.

Mycroft's lips pulled into a smirk, and his tongue darted out to moisten the bottom one, drawing Greg's attention to it completely. 'Is there a reason you decided to try and knock me over?' Mycroft questioned.

Okay, so he still talked like a posh tart, but really... Greg's eyes flicked over his body again.

 _Damn_ was he looking fine.

'I... n-no,' Greg stuttered unintelligently, making Mycroft chuckle. 'What are you doing here?'

'Having a good time,' Mycroft said, raising his cigarette to his lips. He took a long drag and tilted his head back to blow smoke above him and away from Greg. 'Isn't that why people frequent parties?'

'Erm... well, yeah,' Greg said, eyes raking over the taller boy. 'But you... I mean, you're _you_.'

'Quite a good eye you have there,' Mycroft said, smirking condescendingly.

Greg huffed. 'You know what I meant!'

'Do I?'

'Are you being this annoying on purpose?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft's smirk widened. 'You've met my brother, yes?' He took a large gulp of beer and another drag of his cigarette.

Before Greg could ask- well, _demand_ \- what the hell Mycroft was doing at this party dressed the way he was, BJ Masters stumbled over with his arm still wrapped around Sally Donovan. He grinned when he saw Mycroft and said, 'Mikey, having fun?'

'Mm, that remains to be seen,' Mycroft mused, eyes roaming over the crowd. 'There's never anyone interesting at these parties.'

 _Mikey?_ Greg thought, mind stalling once again.

BJ giggled drunkenly. 'If you'd stop shagging every bloke in sight and leaving them bruised you'd have a wider selection.'

Mycroft tutted. 'I have no time to deal with boys who have no idea what they're doing. Is it so much to ask for a fuck who can satisfy me?'

BJ just shrugged and turned to snog Sally, who'd been growing tired of being ignored. As BJ and Sally stumbled away, Greg turned his eyes back on Mycroft.

'Seriously, what the fuck?' he demanded.

Mycroft gave him a bored look and chugged down the rest of his beer before grabbing the closest guy. It was the blonde guy Greg had been eyeing, and when the other teen saw who had him he blushed brightly.

'Hello, gorgeous,' Mycroft said, giving him a small smile, his hand slowly moving down the guy's back. 'Be a good lad and fetch me another drink?' His hand went lower, squeezing a cheek suggestively, and the guy immediately grabbed Mycroft's empty cup and dashed through the crowd. 'Ah, so eager to please.' Mycroft sighed. 'Yet they never can.'

Greg had definitely lost his mind by this point, and just stared as Mycroft finished his cigarette and put it out in the ashtray closest to them.

When the guy returned with Mycroft's drink, the blue-eyed teen leaned close, lips brushing against the other's. 'Thank you _so_ much,' he breathed, plucking the cup from the boy's fingers and taking a swig as he pulled back. 'Perhaps I'll see you later.'

It was a clear dismissal, not that the guy seemed to mind. He just blushed and chewed on his bottom lip, eyeing Mycroft even as he made his way back to his friends.

'Seriously, what the fuck?' Greg asked.

Mycroft smiled at him. 'What the fuck what?' Greg stared. 'Honestly, Gregory, you're acting like you've never heard anyone swear before.'

'Well... yeah, you're _you_!' Greg said.

'And I'll swear as much as I fucking want,' Mycroft said, sliding a cigarette packet from his pocket. 'Would you like one?'

Greg took the offered cigarette, watching as Mycroft pulled out a packet of matches and struck one. He lit Greg's fag before his own, dropping the match and stamping it out on the carpet.

'What?' he said to Greg's look. 'It's not my carpet; fuck Matthew Sanders and fuck his house.'

'Jesus Christ,' Greg gaped.

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'You're starting to annoy me, you know.'

'Well what the fuck am I supposed to do?' Greg demanded. 'You're Mycroft fucking Holmes! Posh, boring, fucking annoying Mycroft Holmes. And now you turn up dressed in fucking black, wearing _eyeliner_ , and looking for some bloke to shag?'

Mycroft smiled. 'Surely you've heard of me by now.'

'What?'

'Well, Andrew and Johnathan weren't very quiet about our dalliances,' Mycroft said. At Greg's blank look he elaborated, 'Andrew Freen and Johnathan Ralling.'

Andy and John.

Andy and John who said some guy had shagged their brains out.

Some guy called _Mikey_.

'No fucking way,' Greg said. 'There's no way in hell you're the Mikey Andy was talking about.'

Mycroft tilted his head, cup rising in a toast. 'Mikey Holmes, at your service, Mr Lestrade.'

'This has got to be some fucking joke,' Greg said. He thought back to all the times he'd heard about Mikey. 'Wait, we were having tea with ours mums the night that guy got fucked, the one after Andy.'

'I can't remember all my conquests, Gregory,' Mycroft said, looking disappointed. 'Do _you_ remember horrible sex?'

'Erm, no,' Greg said. He sucked back on his cigarette, Mycroft's blue eyes falling to look at his lips. 'He was Eric's mate, Eric Armstrong.'

Mycroft just shrugged.

'Wait,' Greg said, realising that Mycroft had left early that afternoon. 'So... when you say you're out tutoring people...' Greg trailed off when a devilish smirk pulled at Mycroft's lips.

'It wouldn't do for Mother dear to worry about me, now would it?' Mycroft said, sipping his beer. 'It's best she think I'm sitting in the library like a good boy than shagging whatever bloke I hope might be able to keep up.'

His eyes slid over Greg slowly and the older boy suddenly felt very hot; had Holmes always been able to leer like that?

'No, it's best she think I'm a nice boy who's going to marry a respectable woman from a well-bred family,' Mycroft continued, eyes now flicking lazily over the young people that crowded the room. 'Besides, it's rather fun having everyone believe certain things about me,' he murmured. His eyes rested momentarily on a guy older than them, probably early twenties, with curly black hair and bright green eyes.

Mycroft gave the man a flirtatious smile, and Greg watched gobsmacked as the guy blushed and raised his cup.

Across the room, the blonde Greg had been checking out earlier- the one who'd practically tripped over himself getting a drink for Mycroft- was pantsed, his jeans and boxers all pulled down by one of BJ Masters' idiot mates.

Greg watched the guy tug them back up and shout, everyone around him laughing. When he'd disappeared back into the crowd, Greg turned to see Mycroft staring across the room.

'What?' Greg said.

'If you'll excuse me, I have a boy to fuck,' Mycroft said. He downed his entire beer in one go, dropped his cigarette in it, and headed off, leaving Greg to stare after him with wide eyes.

No way.

No _fucking_ way.

'You'd better not be causing shit with Mikey.'

Greg turned to see BJ and Matt, the two well on their way to being thoroughly sloshed. 'Mikey?' he questioned.

'Mycroft,' Matt said, 'he goes by Mikey at parties.'

'No way,' Greg said. 'He... he's Mycroft Holmes, he doesn't party.'

Matt snorted as BJ said, 'Whatever you think about him is fucking wrong, Lestrade. Mikey can drink anyone under the table, and just ask all the guys he's fucked; you're a shithead compared to him.'

Greg's mouth dropped open and Matt and BJ both laughed.

'Fucking dickhead,' Matt said and shouldered past him, Greg spilling some of his drink down his shirt. He cursed as he downed the rest of his beer before throwing the cup. Mycroft was right; fuck Matt Sanders and fuck his house.

Greg couldn't get Mycroft out of his head as he pushed through the crowd, trying to remember where the bathroom was. Mycroft had taken every label Greg had ever applied to him, ripped them up into tiny fucking pieces, thrown them in the air, and proceeded to dance under the raining confetti.

Greg could not _believe_ that Mycroft Holmes- posh, polite, _genius_ Mycroft Holmes- was really a drinking, smoking, law-breaking shag-machine. Honestly, who the fuck had seen _that_ coming?

Certainly not Greg. Though his body was taking a keen interest in these developments. Because Jesus _Christ_ did Mycroft look fuckable in that outfit.

And if the rumours about him were anything to go by, Mycroft was a _damn_ good shag.

He headed upstairs and found the house was quiet up here, apart from the various moans coming from behind closed doors. Ignoring them and busting for a leak, Greg finally found the bathroom and pushed the door open.

Greg's mouth dropped open. Mycroft had the guy from earlier- the one who'd brought him a drink- bent over the bathroom sink. He was ploughing into him from behind, the guy gripping onto the counter for dear life even as he moaned, swore, and begged for more.

Greg stood completely gobsmacked for about a minute before Mycroft noticed him.

'Oh, it seems we have company, James,' he said without once breaking his pace. He smirked at Greg, whose eyes were locked onto where Mycroft's covered erection was disappearing into the guy- James. 'Unless you want to join us, Gregory, I suggest you fuck off,' Mycroft said, getting Greg's attention.

'I... uh... sorry,' Greg finally choked out, grabbing the door and slamming it shut. He leaned heavily against the wall and rubbed his eyes. 'What the fuck?'

He stayed where he was, afraid that if he moved he'd either collapse from the sheer _ridiculousness_ of the entire night, or that he'd wake up in hospital after having severe delusions. Because there was no way in fucking _hell_ that that was Mycroft Holmes shagging a bloke he didn't know.

It wasn't Mycroft Holmes fucking a guy hard enough to leave bruises.

It wasn't Mycroft Holmes who was very well endowed and rather thick from what Greg had seen.

It wasn't-

Before Greg's thoughts could get any pervier, there was a scream of ecstasy from the bathroom, followed by a loud curse. A few minutes later the bathroom door was ripped open and Mycroft appeared, throwing a used condom into the bin. He didn't seem to care that his still raging erection was out, because he simply raised an eyebrow at Greg as he tucked himself away.

Greg could see that James had slid to the floor, moaning and looking thoroughly shagged as he leaned heavily against the counter. Mycroft, on the other hand, looked pissed off.

'What the fuck are you doing out here, you pervert?' Mycroft demanded. He slammed the bathroom door shut, cutting James off from view, and grabbed Greg around the throat.

Greg gasped as he was pushed violently into the wall opposite, a breath of air leaving his lips as he connected with the wall.

'Do you get off on watching people, Lestrade?' Mycroft questioned. 'Do you like watching me fuck that guy until he can't stand?'

'Oh God,' was all Greg could grunt. This wasn't happening... no, seriously, _what the fuck was going on?_ This was Mycroft Holmes, MYCROFT FUCKING HOLMES!

'I bet you wish it was you,' Mycroft continued, hand moving from Greg's neck, sliding down the shorter boy's smooth skin. He brushed his hand over Greg's tight t-shirt and paused as he met a nipple.

Suddenly he was twisting it and Greg gasped as pain seared through his body, very quickly followed by pleasure. He moaned and Mycroft closed the distance between them, pressing his body against Greg's. Greg could feel Mycroft's clothed-erection against his thigh and had to try very hard not to rut against it. It wasn't helped by his own cock twitching in his jeans.

'Just what, exactly, where you doing outside the bathroom door when you knew I was in there having sex, hmm?' Mycroft asked, lips centimetres from Greg's. Greg could see his tongue-piercing, and he wondered how it would feel in his mouth, on his _cock_ , before he could stop himself.

Mycroft's eyes roamed over Greg's face and he smirked. His tongue slowly came out, licking along his bottom lip gently and leaving a thin trail of saliva that made his lips look so damn kissable. Greg got a good view of the piercing then and he swallowed hard. He'd always had a thing for piercings.

'Well, well, you really are a little slut, aren't you?' Mycroft said, sounding amused. 'Gregory Lestrade, the town bike; everyone gets a ride as long as they bend over for him first.'

Okay, so Greg knew that was mostly true, but it still pissed him off. He tried to shove Mycroft back and surprisingly hit a wall of muscle. While Mycroft wasn't BJ Masters big, he was definitely hiding just how fit he was.

Greg found himself slammed back into the wall, Mycroft's fingers threading through his hair and tugging back sharply.

'Ah, ah, that was very naughty, Gregory,' Mycroft said, leaning forward. He trailed his nose along Greg's jaw and the older teen felt his heart skip a beat, while more blood rushed to his cock and his skin tingled. Jesus Christ, how could _that_ turn him on so much? 'While I do enjoy rough sex,' Mycroft continued, nose running down Greg's neck, 'I don't appreciate it when someone tries to dominate me so quickly... no, you have to _earn_ that right, Gregory, and you haven't.'

He pulled back sharply on Greg's head, the other teen gasping harshly.

'Have you earned that right, Gregory?' Mycroft asked.

Greg had no idea just how the fuck he'd ended up in this situation. But his teenage hormones were running rampant, and he found himself swallowing thickly and saying, 'N-No, I haven't.'

'Oh _very_ good,' Mycroft said, looking slightly impressed. 'Oh, yes... _very good_ indeed.'

Mycroft leaned forward very slowly until his lips were millimetres from Greg's, breath softly caressing Greg's skin and making him shiver.

'Do you believe that I'm Mikey yet, Greg?' Mycroft whispered. 'Do you believe that I can fuck any man into a sex coma, hmm? Do you believe, dear Gregory, that I'm a much better shag than you?'

He pulled back slightly to see that Greg's pupils were dilated, a flush covering his cheeks. Mycroft's own pupils were large, and Greg could count every freckle and eyelash on his rather handsome face.

Wait, what?

Mycroft smiled sinfully and Greg whimpered. Oh God, Mycroft knew what he was thinking.

'I do, Gregory,' Mycroft said, pressing his thigh between Greg's legs. His knee came up slowly and brushed against Greg's crotch. He paused, one eyebrow going up. 'It seems your cock likes me man-handling you.'

Greg couldn't deny that; he was achingly hard, and Mycroft rubbing him through his jeans was all it took to get his blood boiling. He'd never been one for rough sex- unless throwing each other onto a mattress or against a wall was considered rough- but found that he _very_ much liked Mycroft dominating him.

Mycroft smiled and pressed his knee up, rubbing Greg's trapped erection, and the older boy couldn't help but moan. Mycroft chuckled and darted forward, tongue licking a strip from Greg's neck to his ear, before he tugged the lobe between his teeth.

'Holy fuck,' Greg gasped, arching off the wall to press his cock harder against Mycroft. Mycroft let it happen and licked Greg again, the brown-eyed boy whimpering, moaning, and generally making a dick of himself.

When Mycroft stopped Greg slumped against the wall, his body feeling like it was on fire, his cock throbbing to the point of actual pain. He was so far gone that he'd let Mycroft fuck him right here on the floor as long as he got off.

Greg's brain had stopped working completely and when he lifted his head he just stood there, staring.

Mycroft smiled and leaned forward again, lips ghosting Greg's ear. 'Until next time,' he whispered.

He pressed a quick kiss to Greg's cheek before disappearing, Greg blinking as he suddenly found himself alone. He ran downstairs looking for Mycroft, but couldn't find him anywhere.

Which just added more weird to the whole bizarre fucking night.


	5. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Chapter beta-d by chasingriver.

Greg woke up feeling better than he usually did after a late party. It was probably because he'd spent the last two hours of it looking for Mycroft before walking home at midnight, frowning and remembering the way Mycroft had been dressed.

He lazed about the house staring aimlessly, and more than once his thoughts drifted to the other teenager. He couldn't quite believe that Mycroft Holmes- the biggest nerd the school had to offer- could dress like that and talk like that.

There was also the memory of Mycroft fucking that James guy. Greg had got a good look at what Mycroft had in his trousers, and couldn't deny that the guy was well-endowed.

What pissed Greg off the most was the way he'd reacted to Mycroft. The boy he'd once shoved aside and basically ignored had pushed him against a wall and hissed filthy things in his ear, and all it had done was make Greg hard and panting with need. The guy hadn't even _kissed_ him and Greg had been harder than he'd ever been before in his life.

When Dimmock came around a few hours before the party that night, he found that Greg was completely out of it, staring at the wall as he lay back on his bed.

When Maggie disappeared to get changed for her shift at the hospital, Dimmock leaned against Greg's desk and said, 'What's wrong with you?'

Greg shook his head, trying to get the image of Mycroft in leather trousers from his head. He rolled onto his back and said, 'Nothing.'

'Bullshit, you've been acting all quiet since the party last night. Something happen?'

Greg shook his head again, shoving his hands under his pillow and stretching.

'Greg?'

'Seriously, Dimmo, it's nothing,' Greg insisted. 'I'm just... nothing, it doesn't matter.'

Dimmock frowned. 'You sure?'

Greg nodded. There was no way in hell he could talk to Dimmock about Mycroft. What would he say, anyway? "Mycroft Holmes was there and _fuck_ did he look sexy"? No, he didn't think that'd go down too well.

Dimmock sighed but let it go, instead grabbing the magazine on Greg's desk and flicking through it.

Maggie came back in to tell Greg she was leaving, and got a grunt in response. She looked at Dimmock, who shrugged as if to say "No idea". Still a bit worried, but deciding to let it go for now, Maggie told Greg and Dimmock to behave before leaving for work.


	6. Kiss, Kiss, Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver

The people were the same, _Greg_ was the same, yet everything at the party felt different. Greg felt like he was waiting for someone (which he wasn't), like he'd dressed for someone (which he hadn't!) and like he couldn't get drunk because he wanted to enjoy whatever might come from a certain ginger-haired boy (HE COULD GET ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DRUNK, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!)

Greg lingered in the kitchen figuring Mycroft would need a drink at some point if he turned up (not that it mattered, of course. Why would Greg be waiting for _Mycroft_? He wasn't, absolutely not).

He was on his fourth beer when a familiar auburn-haired teenager suddenly appeared at the keg. He bent right over, giving Greg a view of his gorgeous arse wrapped in bright blue, skin-tight jeans, filled a cup up with beer, and proceeded to swallow the lot.

When he was done he tossed it aside, locked eyes with Greg, and smirked before leaving. Greg left his own beer on the table and followed through the crowd, keeping him in sight as they walked.

He headed upstairs and Greg followed behind, heart pounding in his chest and entire body tingling as he stared at the arse practically dancing before him. Greg swallowed thickly as they reached the dark hallway.

Suddenly Greg was yanked further into the darkness and slammed into the wall. All the air left Greg's lungs as he found himself in the exact same position as the night before; an arm wrapped around his waist, a hand tugging at his hair, and Mycroft Holmes smirking at him.

His eyes were covered in dark blue eyeshadow, eyeliner highlighting them perfectly and making Greg lick his lips. His shirt was a tight black one and he wore a blue-pinstriped waistcoat over the top.

'Hello there, Gregory,' Mycroft said, sounding amused. 'What are you doing, following me to the bathroom?'

'I didn't follow- _ahh_!'

Mycroft tugged Greg's head back, making him cut himself off with a hiss. 'No, no, don't lie to me, Gregory dear. You saw me get a drink and you followed me. Were you thinking about last night when I fucked lovely young James? He was lovely, Gregory, I saw you eyeing him earlier in the evening.'

Greg's eyes widened. Mycroft had been _watching_ him?

'Oh yes, I've seen you at plenty of parties in the past,' Mycroft said, eyes roaming over Greg's face. 'I've watched you fuck whatever guy you want, leaving them gasping for more. But you never give them more, do you, Gregory?'

'No,' Greg said.

'Why is that?' Mycroft asked.

'I... they...' Greg wet his lips, Mycroft's eyes briefly darting down to them. 'They're never any good,' Greg admitted. Mycroft inclined an eyebrow. 'I mean, I get off,' Greg said, wondering just why the hell he was talking to Mycroft Holmes about this. 'But they're not... they don't...'

'Satisfy you?' Mycroft provided.

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'They make me come, but it's not enough.'

'Mm, a pity,' Mycroft mused.

'I still can't believe... _this_ ,' Greg said, looking Mycroft over.

The elder Holmes chuckled. 'Hmm, seems not everybody can fit under the perfect little labels you create,' he said conversationally. 'What have you called me, Gregory? Oh, yes; posh, prat, loser, boring, arsehole... does any of that hold true at this very moment, hmm?'

Mycroft tisked when Greg failed to say anything.

'Well,' he said with a smile, 'let's see what label you use after this.'

He launched himself forward, crashing his mouth against Greg's and taking him by surprise. Greg gasped as Mycroft's right hand twisted painfully through his hair, forcing Greg's head to go whatever way Mycroft wanted. His knee was suddenly rutting hard against Greg's cock, the organ twitching in interest, even while Mycroft pressed his entire body against the older boy's own. His left hand snaked around Greg's waist, fingers digging in hard and arm dragging Greg from the wall.

Greg just tried to hold onto dear life, his fingers twisting in Mycroft's tight t-shirt, as he got snogged. Or mouth-fucked, either one.

Mycroft's lips moved with precision and power, crushing and moulding Greg's to fit what he wanted. His tongue invaded Greg's mouth and dove in, twisting, licking, and stroking before pushing Greg's own tongue down and dominating. Mycroft's tongue-piercing seemed to be everywhere and made Greg heady with need, his tongue flicking against the small metal bar every time Mycroft's tongue swept through his mouth.

And then his tongue disappeared, lips sucking Greg's hard and teeth dragging along his tastebuds, making Greg moan embarrassingly loudly. When that was over Mycroft nipped hard at Greg's lips, tugging against the soft skin, before pulling back so he could suck and lick at Greg's jaw.

'Oh God,' Greg gasped out, pulling Mycroft harder against him, his hips moving as he grinded himself against Mycroft. Mycroft's knee had dropped so he could further press his body against Greg's, and their erections lined up, pushing and rubbing against each other as the two made out.

Mycroft licked his way down to Greg's neck and sucked and bit hard enough to leave marks, tongue laving over the red skin he left before biting again. Greg's head tipped back, thumping into the wall as Mycroft generally did everything in his fucking power to drive Greg insane with lust.

Mycroft pulled away from Greg's neck and mashed their mouths back together, teeth clacking and wet sucking sounds filling the hallway. His left arm unwrapped from Greg to tug the back of his shirt up before five very warm fingers dove down the back of his tight jeans, wriggling before digging in to Greg's soft cheek.

Greg gasped into Mycroft's mouth and the younger boy smirked against his lips, fingers squeezing hard as he stroked the inside of Greg's mouth.

After a few minutes of mind-blowing kissing, Mycroft's lips turned soft and gentle, making Greg falter and pull back. Mycroft's eyes were more a smouldering blue now, like the ocean just before a storm, and his pupils were completely blown. He had saliva smeared across his kiss-swollen lips, and his usually pale face was flushed red.

He leaned forward slowly and pressed his lips back to Greg's.

It was all gentle and nice and... fuck, it was still goddamn amazing.

Mycroft's lips pressed softly against Greg's, coaxing the other boy into a warm, gentle kiss that made Greg's toes curl. He kissed and sucked gently before his tongue slowly poked out, swiping along Greg's bottom lip, Greg immediately opening up.

Mycroft chuckled before dipping in, his wet organ trailing along Greg's teeth and gums every time they gently kissed. It met Greg's own tongue and unlike before, danced with it slowly and gently, not trying to dominate or be in charge. When it retreated Greg hesitantly followed, and was surprised when Mycroft let him in.

He explored Mycroft's mouth thoroughly and slowly, the other boy making a soft sound of enjoyment (FINALLY!) Greg stroked each of Mycroft's teeth like he was counting, followed by Mycroft's gums, his cheeks, before finally sliding his tongue along Mycroft's. It twisted around his own wetly, and the two moaned into each other's mouths.

Soon Mycroft re-took control of the kiss, tongue chasing Greg's back into the brown-haired boy's mouth. His left hand slid from Greg's jeans to ghost over his back, making goose-bumps rise and Greg shiver violently. His right had stopped twisting through Greg's hair and was now stroking, nails digging into his scalp deliciously and sending pleasure lancing down Greg's spine.

Like earlier, Mycroft pulled away to kiss and lick down Greg's neck, this time the right side. Greg was panting by this point and swallowed thickly before letting his mouth drop open. Mycroft was nibbling and licking teasing little circles on his neck, teeth and lips both grazing along his skin, up to his jaw, and across to his other ear.

He licked the shell very slowly, Greg feeling like he could feel each and every tastebud Mycroft had, before the tip of his tongue flicked over his lobe. His teeth dug into the soft flesh and drew back, Greg groaning loudly and thrusting forward.

Mycroft gently thrust back and they rutted against each other, Greg's hands now running up and down Mycroft's chest and stomach; his stomach was smooth and flat, while his chest felt muscular, but still thinner than Greg's own.

Mycroft leaned that bit closer and Greg's hands grabbed at his hips, fingers digging in painfully hard as Mycroft licked his way back to Greg's lips. When he paused Greg opened his eyes, and Mycroft smirked before crushing their lips together for one last, quick tongue-wrestle.

When he pulled away again it was for the last time, and Mycroft was panting, lips swollen and red, and he looked as turned on as Greg.

He hid it a hell of a lot better.

Greg was a mess; his hair was messier than usual because of Mycroft, his lips were deliciously bruised, and he felt like his face was on fire. His entire body was thrumming and he shivered when Mycroft's hands stroked down his face, neck, chest and stomach, stopping to cup the bulge his erection had made in his jeans.

Greg hissed loudly and Mycroft chuckled before letting go. Greg slumped against the wall heavily, feeling used and abused. He hadn't had a snog like that in... well, Greg didn't think he'd ever been kissed that well and that fucking thoroughly.

Mycroft smiled and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a match before taking a long drag. He blew smoke above them as Greg shook his head.

Holy _fuck_ could Mycroft Holmes kiss.

Greg was staring stupidly and blinking, his pupils dilated and his cock straining against his tight jeans. Mycroft's left index finger ran along the bulge in Greg's crotch as he inhaled a lungful of smoke, and Greg shivered, a moan escaping his swollen lips.

'Hmm, a pity I don't have the time,' Mycroft said, sounding completely calm and casual.

'What?' Greg practically whined. 'You just got here!'

Mycroft chuckled and glanced at Greg's watch before leaning forward, lips ghosting over Greg's before moving to his ear. 'You've only had a taste of how good I am, Gregory,' he purred, breath blowing across Greg's ear and making him shiver violently.

'But... you just...' Greg whimpered.

'I'm so very good with my mouth, my fingers and hands too,' Mycroft continued softly. He leaned forward until his body was pressing lightly against Greg's, making the shorter boy shiver again. 'Just imagine me fucking you, filling that tight little hole of yours with my cock.'

 _Holy fucking hell,_ was all Greg could think.

'You'd like that, wouldn't you?' Mycroft mused. 'Always so eager for a quick fuck until you move onto the next man, leaving a trail of lovers in your wake.' He tisked slightly and licked the shell of Greg's ear, Greg jolting. 'Just wait until I do that to you, Gregory Lestrade,' Mycroft whispered seductively. 'You'll be the one begging for another round.'

He pulled back suddenly and turned, disappearing downstairs exactly like he had the previous night. Greg stood blinking stupidly before racing after Mycroft, only to find that he'd vanished. Greg searched for a good hour before giving up and locking himself in the bathroom to get rid of his erection.

He wanked to the memory of Mycroft Holmes kissing him, that tongue-piercing stroking his own tongue, his cheek, as well as the younger boy's body pressed against his own, a sizable erection rubbing against his thigh.

And Greg came _hard._


	7. Behaviour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver

Greg felt like he'd been thoroughly shagged and tossed aside. You know, apart from the aching in his groin. Mycroft's lips and hands haunted his dreams that night, and when he sat in his bedroom doing homework on Monday (his mum had shouted at him when he'd snuck into the kitchen to get some cereal) all he could think about was Mycroft's tongue running along his skin, his body pushed flush against Greg's, and his fucking lips kissing Greg like he'd never been kissed before.

He wanted it to be a dream; a giant, twisted fucking dream. He wanted Mycroft to be the same posh tit he'd always been, and he wanted these fucking feelings to go away.

But no, there were two large hickeys on his neck, ones that his mum had tutted at. He could still feel Mycroft's lips pressed against his own in gentle and crushing kisses, and there was no way in hell he could ever forget what Mycroft looked like fucking someone (only his dreams replaced that James dude with himself).

Greg cursed and grabbed his cigarettes, knowing his mum wouldn't be in; she'd been checking on him every hour and she'd just left. He pushed his bedroom window open and took a long drag, twisting the lid of the jar he used as an ashtray clear and setting it aside.

Greg leaned back at his desk and propped his feet up on his bed, crossing them at the ankles. He twisted the cigarette between his fingers as smoke curled around him, disappearing outside into the bright sun.

How the fuck had Greg's life turned into this? One minute Mycroft Holmes was the school dickhead, the next he was a sexy motherfucker who could fuck your mouth with his tongue. And now Greg wanted him; he wanted him _so_ fucking badly.

Greg swore again and ripped into the sandwich his Mum had brought him, lettuce and ham rolling around his tongue as crumbs cascaded down his shirt.

What the fuck was he supposed to do? Dimmock had been outside all night on the phone to his girlfriend, Dylan had got himself laid, and Joe had passed out in the sitting room. Not one of them had seen Mycroft Holmes dressed like sex-on-legs either night, and the latter two had been so trashed Mycroft could have snogged them and they wouldn't remember.

Which left Greg to ponder the mystery that Mycroft Holmes had become.

The very shaggable mystery of Mikey Holmes.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg tried to tell himself that he wasn't actively seeking Mycroft out. He just _happened_ to see the elder Holmes during lunch on Tuesday, that was all. He definitely hadn't been looking around for a head of ginger-brown hair, nope, absolutely not.

He definitely hadn't wanked again about six times Sunday and Monday night, the image of Mycroft in leather pants at the forefront of his mind every time he climaxed.

And he most certainly did _not_ want to shag Mycroft Edwin Holmes.

Nope.

Never.

Absolutely not.

With those lies firmly rolling around his head, Greg jogged over to Mycroft, who was heading in the direction of the library.

'Mycroft, hey.'

The taller boy stopped and turned, raising a ginger-brown eyebrow when he saw who had stopped him. 'Gregory, how can I help you?'

Greg blinked at the cold, polite tone Mycroft was using. 'Erm... I just... about Sunday night-'

'What about Sunday night?' Mycroft queried. 'I was at the library tutoring Benjamin Masters; he needs a lot of help for our next politics assignment.'

Greg frowned. What the fuck? This Mycroft was completely different to the one Greg'd snogged last night; Mycroft's hair was once more styled perfectly, while his eyes were free of any make-up; he was speaking softly and clearly, Greg not able to see the tongue-piercing he'd got up close and personal with the previous night; and the other teenager's eyes and facial features were morphed into a polite mask.

What had happened to the smirking, leering, fucking _sexy_ Mycroft Holmes that Greg had met before?

'Gregory, I don't have all day, so if you wouldn't mind...' Mycroft trailed off and looked at him pointedly.

'Erm... n-nothing,' Greg said. 'I just... no, forget it.'

'Are you sure?' When Greg nodded, Mycroft pasted a smile on his face before turning and heading to the library, leaving Greg feeling more confused than he had the night before.

 

{oOo}

 

It was the same every day that week. Greg would sneak up on Mycroft and mention the party. And Mycroft, in all his poshy-git glory, would act like nothing had happened. It was half infuriating, half fucking arousing, and Greg was sure Mycroft was trying to turn him into a blubbering wreck.

It was fucking working.

Greg was still pondering Mycroft's behaviour when he left school on Friday afternoon. There was a party that night at Adam Lavent's, and Greg was looking forward to knocking back some drinks and killing as many braincells as he could.

When he reached his bike, Greg found a note taped to the fuel-tank and frowned. Looking around but not seeing anyone he knew, Greg ripped it from his bike and flipped it open;

 

_I'll see you at Adam Lavent's tonight. Wear something delicious - MH_

 

Greg's heart skipped a beat and he turned around wildly. Mycroft Holmes' jaguar wasn't in the car park, so he must have left already.

Feeling like an idiot for getting so excited over a fucking note, Greg shoved it into his pocket and straddled his bike.

He pointedly didn't think about Mycroft as he rode home, weaving in and out of traffic and paying particular attention to any dark-green cars.

He tried really hard not to think about Mycroft as he did his homework, munching on noodles and slurping down coke.

He tried somewhat not to think about Mycroft as he got dressed for the party at seven.

He kind of tried not to think about Mycroft when he jumped in Molly's car at nine.

He'd given up trying not to think about Mycroft by the time he walked into the house.


	8. Are We The Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver
> 
> Chapter Title: Are We The Waiting by Green Day

Greg went to get them drinks and downed two before re-joining them and sitting on the edge of the coffee table.

Adam Lavent was one of BJ Masters' dickheads, and apparently Mycroft Holmes ran in their circle. So there was a chance that he'd be at the party, right? He'd said he'd be there; he'd left Greg a note and everything, so he'd be at the party, looking absolutely fucking delicious in tight-fitted clothing, right?

And... and he'd kiss Greg again, right? 'Cause that'd be okay... right?

'Jesus, what the fuck's wrong with you?' Dimmock demanded.

Greg looked down and realised he was crushing his cup, and his left leg was jiggling wildly like it usually did when he was excited. Excited? About seeing Mycroft Holmes? Un-fucking-believable.

'Erm, just... need a shag,' Greg shrugged; not a lie, really.

Molly blushed and Greg threw her a charming smile while going back to staring at the door, bringing his cup to his lips every few minutes to take a swig of beer.

After an hour of staring- Molly and Dimmock were making out every so often- Greg's mate kicked him and said, 'Seriously, Greg, what's up?'

'Nothing,' Greg said, not taking his eyes off the door. He'd see Mycroft when the bloke showed up, this time he was prepared.

'It looks like you're waiting for someone,' Molly mused.

Greg shot her a death-stare and Dimmock grinned. 'Well, what's this?' he said.

'Shut it, Dimmo,' Greg growled.

'Is our Greggie waiting for some bloke?' Dimmock asked.

'No,' Greg insisted. He lasted all of two minutes before looking back at the door.

'Well fuck me-' Dimmock began.

'I already have,' Greg shot at him scathingly.

'- Greg's found someone who's worthy of another round,' Dimmock continued, him and Molly both ignoring Greg's comment. Molly knew that her boyfriend was bi, and knew that he and Greg had shagged once. It was in the past and she was secure enough to not be jealous of Greg.

'Shut your fucking face, arsehole,' Greg said, throwing his empty beer aside and grabbing Dimmock's. Dimmock made a swipe for it and Greg poked his tongue out as he chugged back. 'I ain't waiting for nobody, got it, fuck face?'

Dimmock just smirked and nudged Greg with his foot. 'Come on, Gregory, tell us.'

'Fuck off.'

'Pretty please?' Dimmock asked, batting his eyelashes.

Greg sneered at him. He wasn't about to admit that he'd snogged Mycroft Holmes- or been snogged by Mycroft, either one. He could just imagine the look on Dimmock's face if he said that.

So instead he finished Dimmock's beer, threw the cup at him, and stormed off to get another drink.

Dimmock and Molly watched him go, the girl turning to her partner. 'He's got that look.'

'What look?' Dimmock asked.

'The one you get when you're waiting for me,' Molly said.

Dimmock smiled and kissed her quickly before saying, 'But this is Greg Lestrade; he never shags anyone more than once, sometimes twice if he isn't too drunk.'

Molly just smiled. 'He's got that look, Michael,' she said knowingly. 'He's met someone.'

Dimmock shrugged and leaned up to kiss her again, much more interested in that than Greg's sex life.

 

{oOo}

 

It was reaching midnight. The party was in full-swing. And Greg had grabbed every bloke in leather trousers before pushing them away in disgust. Dimmock was still on his back, Molly smiling knowingly, and Greg avoided them as best he could while hunting for Mycroft.

Yep.

Hunting for Mycroft fucking Holmes.

Greg didn't know what the world had come to, but he hunted away.

He was on his seventh beer and feeling woozy when someone grabbed him. Greg was just drunk enough not to mind, and stumbled after whoever had a hold of him. Suddenly cold air hit his skin, and he blinked as he was let go.

Greg turned to see that he was standing on Adam Lavent's back deck, the moon hanging high above, and a cold wind slicing through the trees. Light and music was spilling out from the sliding glass doors, but was cut off when someone slid them shut.

Turning again, Greg's mouth fell open.

Mycroft was wearing tight red jeans similar to the one's Greg had worn when they'd made out. His shirt was a black button-up and tucked in, showing a white and black checkered belt. Hanging around his neck, and done up as perfectly as the one on his uniform, was a blood-red tie. He once again had eye-liner marking his eyes, only the eye-shadow this time was smudged crazier than before. His hair was longer than Greg remembered and hanging over his forehead in a messy heap.

Mycroft smirked as Greg's eyes practically leapt from his face as they roamed up and down Mycroft over and over again. Mycroft leaned against the deck railing and lit a cigarette, eyes on Greg as the match sparked to life.

He flicked it out and took a long drag, smoke pouring from his mouth as he asked, 'See something you like?'

Greg tore his eyes away from Mycroft's legs, looking up at the auburn-haired teenager. 'Erm... I...'

Mycroft smirked.

Clearing his throat, Greg said, 'Yeah, maybe I do. So what?'

'My, my, someone has a backbone,' Mycroft snickered. 'Last time we met you... hmm, what _is_ the word I'm looking for?' He tapped his bottom lip, Greg's eyes locking onto the sweet pink flesh. 'Oh, yes,' Mycroft said. 'Fucked. You looked absolutely _fucked_ , Gregory, and why was that?'

'Erm...'

'Could it be because you saw something that didn't quite fit into the way you viewed the world?' Mycroft questioned.

Greg looked up at him slowly. 'I was... surprised.'

'Yes, surprised,' Mycroft nodded. 'Surprised that Mycroft Holmes- git, dickhead, and absolutely boring fuck- could look shaggable in tight jeans and give you the best snog of your life.'

Greg swallowed thickly but didn't say anything. Mycroft was right, after all.

'I know of all the labels you gave me, Gregory,' Mycroft continued, the older boy's eyes trailing up to his own. 'I know what you called me, both to my face and behind my back.' He didn't look angry, Greg noted. More like... indifferent. Of course Mycroft noticed and smiled. 'You should be aware, Lestrade, that I don't give a fuck what people think of me. Call me boring, posh, queer, whatever. I'll take your labels and make confetti.'

Greg frowned and said, 'Confetti?'

Mycroft pushed off from the railing and walked towards Greg- no, it wasn't walking, Mycroft was stalking his prey, who happened to be Greg. Greg gulped as Mycroft stopped mere inches from him, taking another drag of his cigarette before speaking.

'I'll take all your labels, dear Gregory,' he said softly, 'tear them into itty-bitty pieces, and throw them in your face. And then, I'll dance under the raining confetti, because you can shove your labels right up your fucking arse.'

Greg's eyes were locked onto Mycroft's own.

'I'm not like you,' Mycroft said. 'I don't care if everyone thinks that I'm a boring cock with a stick up my arse. And I don't care if everyone thinks I'm the best fuck they've ever had. All that matters is what _I_ think of myself, because at the end of the day I have to live with who I am, not you, and not any of those fucking losers in there.'

Silence hung thickly, Greg and Mycroft staring at each other until Greg broke eye contact. Mycroft snorted as the other teenager dug for his own cigarettes, eventually getting them free of his tight jeans and lighting one with a lighter.

They stood together smoking, Greg occasionally sipping his beer and stealing glances at Mycroft (glances that Mycroft saw but didn't comment on). After Greg had stubbed out his cigarette, he said, 'Why me?'

'Excuse me?'

'Why are you telling me this?' Greg asked, turning to look at Mycroft. They'd migrated over to the railing and were both leaning against it, looking out at the inky-black lawn.

Mycroft was silent as he thought, head tilted to one side. Finally he said, 'Because you're not like them.'

'What?'

'You're not like them, Gregory,' Mycroft repeated.

'I'm not?' Greg asked.

The other teenager tilted his head in Greg's direction, bright blue eyes examining him carefully. 'No,' he said, 'you're not. I find you... interesting.'

'Erm... right,' Greg said, not sure what to make of that.

A smile tugged at Mycroft's lips. 'Why, didn't you like kissing me?' Greg's face flushed red in record time, and he turned away but not before Mycroft had seen it. The blue-eyed teen stepped closer and Greg gulped, feeling Mycroft's warm skin press against his own. 'Did you think about our kiss at all over the past week?' Mycroft asked innocently.

Greg didn't trust himself to speak. It'd be easier to count the amount of times he _hadn't_ thought about Mycroft kissing him, and he'd definitely be able to count on one hand.

'You haven't been kissed like that before, have you, Gregory?' Mycroft asked. 'Everyone's so interested in sticking their tongue as far as they can down your throat. What people lack is the ability to deduce just exactly what an individual wants in a kiss.'

His eyes had dropped to Greg's lips and the older boy couldn't help but lick them nervously.

'Like me, you want hard, punishing kisses,' Mycroft said. 'So hard your lips are aching and bruised just minutes later. You want someone to dominate and own your mouth, to force you into submission. And then, of course, you like surprises; a soft, gentle, _teasing_ kiss that leaves you breathless and aching for more.'

Greg had been staring at Mycroft's lips for a good two minutes, and the auburn-haired teen smirked. Mycroft leaned forward, lips brushing against Greg's teasingly.

'Is that what you want, Gregory?'

Greg closed the gap, pressing his lips against Mycroft's and getting a sharp inhale of surprise in response. That lasted all of two seconds before Mycroft was kissing back, both hands gripping Greg's hips and tugging him closer.

Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft's neck, and smiled when Mycroft pulled him even closer. This kiss was somewhere in-between the other two; just hard enough to make Greg breathless, while sweet and gentle, making Greg's body tingle.

The night air was filled with the soft sounds of their lips melding together, and Greg tilted his head, Mycroft going the other way. Greg's entire body was alight with electricity, and he groaned against Mycroft's mouth when the younger boy pried his lips apart, tongue diving in to stroke against his own.

They eventually had to break apart for air, and Greg was thrilled to see that Mycroft was panting too.

'Why'd you ignore me at school?' he asked.

Mycroft chuckled. 'I can't have people knowing that I associate with the likes of _you_ , dear Gregory,' he hummed before leaning forward to suck on Greg's earlobe.

Okay, Greg had definitely heard an insult in there, but really he was too focused on Mycroft's tongue and the delicious things it was doing to his ear.

'Why?' Mycroft whispered. 'Did I hurt your feelings?'

'N-No.'

'You're not used to people saying no to you, are you?' Mycroft asked. Greg swallowed thickly. 'Don't worry, Gregory, I'm not saying no. I'm just saying... wait.'

'Wait?' Greg questioned, drawing back.

Mycroft smiled as he said, 'Why rush a good thing, hmm? I have high hopes for you, Gregory Lestrade.'

'You... you do?'

Mycroft nodded, hand trailing down to Greg's crotch. His cock twitched in interest and Mycroft smirked. 'Let's see what we can do about that, shall we?'

Greg had no idea what Mycroft was saying until his belt was pulled open, the leather sliding and buckle clinking as Mycroft got it free. Greg's breathing hitched as the button of his jeans was popped, the zip pulled down seconds later.

And then he was backed into the railing, thudding into it as Mycroft's soft, cold hand dove down his boxers.

'Holy fucking _hell_ ,' Greg hissed as Mycroft's fingers closed around his cock.

'My, my, someone's rather thick, aren't they?' Mycroft mused, stroking Greg from root to tip. 'Nice size, just above average, but _very_ thick indeed.'

'Uh... uh-huh,' was Greg's response, because really, what was he supposed to say when a hot guy was jerking him off?

'You're thinking too much, Greg,' Mycroft said softly, using his free hand to tilt Greg's head up. His blue eyes were warm and filled with desire. 'Just enjoy, yes?'

He pressed their lips together as he began stroking Greg properly, hand quickly pulling Greg completely free of his jeans and boxers. The cold night air was a bit of a sting, but Mycroft's hand more than made up for _that._

Greg was breathing heavily, and each sound he made was swallowed by Mycroft's mouth as his skilful hand moved up and down Greg's heated skin. It usually took a good five minutes for Greg's partners to have him really hard, but Mycroft had managed it before he'd even kissed Greg.

His cock was aching, pre-come leaking copiously from the slit as Mycroft flicked a thumb through it. The sticky liquid just made it easier for Mycroft to jerk him off, and Greg moaned as a particularly hard pull had his knees threatening to give in.

Mycroft pressed close to him, still kissing Greg, still slowly exploring his mouth, tongue piercing rolling across his tastebuds and stoking the fire burning in his gut. Mycroft was hard too, Greg could feel it, and he tugged Mycroft forward so the taller boy was pressed hard against his thigh.

Mycroft tore their lips apart and leaned heavily against Greg. 'Oh, you little tease,' he breathed. He continued to stroke Greg's cock but started rutting against him, moaning in enjoyment when Greg's fingers dug into his hips.

Greg decided that Mycroft had teased him enough and wanted to have some fun of his own. He kissed and nipped his way up and down Mycroft's face, tongue darting out to lick at the soft, silky skin of his neck. Mycroft's cologne filled his nostrils and made his head buzz, while Mycroft's moans and curses were muffled when he buried his face in Greg's neck.

Greg sucked back on Mycroft's neck, not hard enough to leave any marks, just hard enough for Mycroft to really feel it. And if the moan Mycroft gave was anything to go by, he felt it alright.

Greg was thrusting into Mycroft's hand now and the other boy leaned up, sealing their lips back together, tongue pushing into Greg's mouth as his hand moved up and down Greg's cock. Greg groaned loudly against Mycroft's lips, eyes squeezed shut as his body was assaulted with pleasure.

Suddenly Mycroft was pulling Greg's shirt up, hand moving fast over his shaft, and Greg gasped and grunted as his balls tightened, the tight coil in his gut snapping completely.

He came hard, burying his face in Mycroft's neck and panting, shaking through his orgasm. He felt warm liquid spill across his stomach and Mycroft's fist, but didn't give a damn as the younger boy milked the climax for him for a few glorious minutes.

When he could think straight, Greg pulled back, eyes sated and face flushed, sweat beading across his forehead and upper lip. Mycroft smirked and leaned forward, pressing his lips softly against Greg's for a gentle, lazy kiss.

They broke apart and Mycroft grabbed Greg's shirt, using the inside to wipe his hand clean while Greg got his breath back and zipped himself back up. When he had he grabbed Mycroft and kissed him hard, the taller boy grunting in surprise before letting Greg lead the kiss.

When they broke apart again Greg hissed, 'Fuck, let me touch you.'

'Greg-'

' _Please_.'

Mycroft swallowed thickly and nodded, hands going to his own belt. He fumbled to get it undone and when he had, fingers grabbing his zip, the back door slid open.

Mycroft swore and fumbled, trying to do his belt back up as BJ Masters and Dimmock stumbled outside. They were shouting and pushing each other, but stopped when they saw Greg and Mycroft.

Greg was still flushed red and looking very fucked, while the bulge Mycroft's erection was making was very obvious in his tight jeans, especially since Mycroft was still doing his belt up.

'What's going on here?' BJ demanded.

'Nothing,' Mycroft said quickly.

'What-the- _fuck_?' Dimmock demanded, eyes popping when he realised who Mycroft was.

'Nothing's happening,' Greg said, folding his arms and taking a step back from Mycroft.

'Mycroft _Holmes_?' Dimmock blanched.

'In the flesh,' Mycroft growled.

Dimmock just stared as Greg ran a hand through his hair, BJ looking between him and Mycroft. The genius cleared his throat and looked at Greg.

'Well... another time?'

'Definitely,' Greg said, smiling when he saw the blush that worked up Mycroft's neck.

'Yes, well,' Mycroft said, digging for his cigarettes. 'I must be going,' he said before lighting one. He took a long drag and said, 'Benjamin, tell Adam it's been fun.'

BJ nodded.

'Michael, do put your tongue back in,' Mycroft said to Dimmock, who'd been drooling over the sight Mycroft made. He quickly closed his mouth and Mycroft said, 'Gregory, always a pleasure. But of course, no one here will speak of this, will they?'

He looked pointedly at Dimmock, who quickly nodded and said, 'Yeah, 'course, not a word.'

Mycroft nodded in satisfaction, threw one last lust-filled look at Greg, and disappeared back inside the house.


	9. Hitchin' A Ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver
> 
> Chapter Title: Hitchin' A Ride by Green Day

There was an awkward silence after Mycroft left. BJ was glaring at Greg, like somehow Greg had _forced_ Mycroft to jerk him off, and Dimmock was gaping openly. Finally BJ snorted and went back into the house, Greg immediately turning his back on his best friend.

'What-the- _fuck_?' Dimmock demanded again.

'Not now, Dimmo,' Greg said.

'Now now?' Dimmock said, stalking to the other teenager. 'Now _now_? I just walk out here to see you and Mycroft Holmes- _you and Mycroft Holmes_ \- with swollen fucking lips, you looking like you'd got a fucking blow job, Holmes with his goddamn belt open and dressed like some type of bloody emo-goth-punk-fucking-rocker, and you say not _now_?'

Greg sighed.

'Seriously, what the fucking _fuck_ , Greg?'

Greg pulled his cigarettes out and lit one quickly, staring across the dark lawn as he smoked. Finally he said, 'I have no fucking idea.'

'What?'

'Honestly, mate, no fucking clue,' Greg shrugged as Dimmock stood beside him. 'Last weekend I ran into Mycroft- dressed like fucking sex-on-legs-' Dimmock smirked, '- and acting like some fucking... I dunno, acting like _me_ ,' Greg said. 'He pushed me into a wall and was swearing and rubbing at my goddamn cock, and then he takes off. The next night I ran into him again and he fucking snogged me.'

'Mycroft Holmes snogged _you_?' Dimmock asked.

'Fucking hell did he snog me,' Greg said. 'Seriously, Dimmo, I have _never_ been that thoroughly kissed in my fucking life- no, it wasn't kissing, he fucking tongue-fucked me.'

Dimmock snickered.

'I'm fucking serious here,' Greg scowled. 'He tongue-fucks my mouth and then takes off, and at school he acts like nothing fucking happened. Then he pulls me out here 'bout an hour ago and sticks his hand down my jeans, what am I supposed to do?'

'Offer him a hand job in return, obviously,' Dimmock said. Greg rolled his eyes and leaned against the railing, puffing on his cigarette. 'Jesus Christ,' Dimmock said suddenly, 'my mind's fucking imploded from the sight of Mycroft Holmes in tight jeans.'

Greg snorted. 'How do you think I've been feeling?'

'Wait, so this is why you've been acting so weird all week?' Dimmock asked. ''Cause Mycroft Holmes snogged-'

'Tongue-fucked,' Greg corrected.

Dimmock rolled his eyes. 'Tongue-fucked, whatever. This is why you've been acting all weird?' Greg nodded. 'Wait, were you waiting for him tonight?' Greg squirmed and didn't look up, effectively answering Dimmock's questions. 'Holy fucking hell, Greg Lestrade waiting for Mycroft Holmes like some giddy little fucking girl.'

'Fuck off, cunt,' Greg replied.

Dimmock smirked and leaned against the railing too, tapping at the wood. 'Well,' he finally said, Greg glancing at him, 'I gotta admit, he looked damn fine in that outfit.'

'Mm,' Greg nodded.

'I mean, I've always thought he was kind of cute,' Dimmock continued, Greg scowling, 'but I never paid him any attention because he seemed like such a tit. But after tonight...' He trailed off and tilted his head, no doubt thinking about Mycroft in jeans and a tight shirt.

Greg continued to glare at his best friend. He didn't know why Dimmock thinking Mycroft was hot pissed him off so much, but it did. Until now Greg had been the only person- besides BJ Masters and his mates- to know that Mycroft Holmes could look like a goddamn sex God. But now Dimmock knew, and Dimmock had noticed what Greg had; Mycroft Holmes was a sexy piece of fucking man.

When Dimmock looked back over Greg was glaring hard at him. 'What?'

'Nothing,' Greg said, looking away quickly and finishing his fag.

'No, what is it?' Dimmock asked. He smiled slowly when Greg shrugged and flicked his cigarette butt over the railing. 'What, you jealous?'

'What?' Greg practically shrieked, making Dimmock smirk. 'Fuck off, why would I be jealous?'

''Cause you want into Mycroft Holmes' trousers?' Dimmock supplied.

'So what if I do?' Greg sniffed.

'Oh, there's nothing wrong with wanting into his trousers,' Dimmock said. 'I would too if I wasn't with Molly.' Greg growled audibly and Dimmock grinned. 'You fucking like him.'

'Don't be a dickhead,' Greg spat.

'You fucking _like him_ ,' Dimmock repeated, standing back and folding his arms. 'Don't fucking deny it, Greg, you _like_ him!'

'I do not!' Greg shouted. 'He's fucking hot, alright? I want a shag, maybe two, and that's it!'

'Bull-fucking- _shit_ ,' Dimmock said. 'You couldn't care less if any of your conquests are off shagging some other bloke five minutes after you've fucked them. But I mention Holmes looking shaggable and you start growling like some fucking caveman.'

Greg smacked his fist into Dimmock's shoulder, making the other teenager wince and stumble back. 'Fuck off, Dimmo, you're a fucking idiot!' Greg spat and stormed away.

'And you fancy Mycroft Holmes!' Dimmock shouted as Greg stormed into the house.

 

{oOo}

 

Dimmock's words replayed over and over again in Greg's head all weekend, and well into Monday morning. He didn't fucking like Mycroft Holmes. So what if he wanted to shag Mycroft? So what if he got pissed off because Dimmock thought he was hot? So what if Mycroft wasn't the boring, posh tit Greg had always thought he was?

So what if Greg wanted to see more of him, hang out with him, kiss him and fuck him and do a hundred other fucking things with him.

That didn't mean he _liked_ Mycroft.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

Absolutely-fucking- _not_.

Besides, they barely knew each other. Greg couldn't fucking like someone he'd known for all of a week and spent about six hours with. Okay, so yeah, he'd known Mycroft since they were about fifteen when the Holmes family had moved to town, but Greg had only known the "public" Mycroft; the posh, polite, abso-fucking-lutely boring Mycroft Holmes. He'd known this... awesome-smoking-drinking-damn-fucking- _shaggable_ Mycroft Holmes for all of a week.

So no, Greg did not fucking _like him_.

'Greg, are you alright?'

Greg jumped, ripped from his repetitive thoughts about Mycroft by his mum. He was sitting at the kitchen table ripping his toast to shreds. His mum was tired- she'd only walked in from the night-shift about half-an-hour earlier- and was yawning as she watched Greg.

'Huh?' he said when he realised she was still staring at him.

'Are you okay?' Maggie asked again.

'Yeah, fine,' Greg nodded, going back to pulling his toast apart.

Maggie frowned. 'Greg, come on, I know when you're upset about something. And I know you don't want to talk to your mother about it, but I _am_ here.'

Greg chewed on his lip, wondering what his mum would say if she knew that perfect Mycroft Holmes was just as fucked up as he was.

'Well... erm,' Greg mumbled, 'have you ever thought you knew someone, and then they turn out to be a completely different person?' he asked. 'Like, you _thought_ you knew everything there was to know about this person, and then they go and completely blind-side you?'

Maggie frowned, thinking over her son's words. 'Are you saying that someone's surprised you?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'It's like... like finding out that small, nerdy Peter Parker is Spider-Man, and it just completely blows your mind because you thought he was a wimp, when he's actually this super-awesome person.'

Maggie raised an eyebrow. 'Did you find out that someone you thought was a wimp is actually a super-awesome person?'

Greg flushed darkly and his mother smirked. 'Um... well, I...'

'Greg, people aren't always who they appear to be,' Maggie said when her son continued to stammer. 'Who people are in public isn't necessarily who they _really_ are, especially teenagers. Young people face a lot in today's society, so it's not surprising that a lot of you hide who you really are.'

Greg just stared at her.

'All you _can_ do,' Maggie continued, 'is accept people for who they are, even if who they really are completely surprises you.'

'I suppose,' Greg mumbled.

'Is this really bothering you?' Maggie asked, sipping her tea.

'Um... kinda,' Greg admitted. 'I just don't know what to do.'

'Is this person close to you?'

'Erm, not really,' Greg said, 'at least we haven't been until recently.' Maggie raised an eyebrow and Greg blushed harder, thinking about exactly how close he and Mycroft had got at the party last night. 'Um, forget it, doesn't matter.'

'Are you sure?'

Greg nodded. 'It's not really a massively big thing, it's just something that's been on my mind.'

'Well, you've thoroughly confused me and I have no idea what's going on,' Maggie admitted, Greg chuckling as he stood. 'But I hope you work it out.'

Greg smiled and kissed his mum's cheek before grabbing his helmet and heading off to school.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg was actually really early for once; a by-product of not getting wasted the night before and actually getting up when his alarm went off. He pulled into the carpark and turned his bike off, tugging his helmet off and just sitting.

He didn't know what had possessed him to talk to his _mum_ about Mycroft; he was going completely fucking insane. Greg just didn't know where he stood with Mycroft, or why Mycroft wanted _him_. Why, all of a sudden, had Mycroft shown Greg who he really was?

It was absolutely fucking insane and Greg just wanted to sit down and talk to Mycroft without anyone interrupting or without Mycroft touching him and kissing him; because really, Greg couldn't think when Mycroft's tongue was involved.

A car pulled into the carpark behind Greg but he paid it no mind, just straddling his bike and staring. He didn't even realise he wasn't alone until there was a tap on his shoulder.

Greg nearly went flying but a hand shot out, steadying him and saving Greg's bike from tipping over. When Greg had his balance again he looked up.

Mycroft smirked when Greg's mouth dropped open. The other teenager was dressed in tight purple jeans, a black button-up open and showing a _My Chemical Romance_ shirt, with eyeliner and eyeshadow marking his face, as well as purple nail polish.

When Greg continued to stare, Mycroft said, 'Any particular reason you're sitting on your bike and staring?'

'Erm... I... just...'

Mycroft smiled and grabbed Greg's helmet, tossing it between his hands. 'Have you got another one?'

'Uh... yeah, in my locker, in case a mate ever wants a lift,' Greg said, swallowing thickly. 'Why?'

'Go get it, you're taking me for a ride,' Mycroft said, handing the helmet back over. Greg just stared at him. 'Gregory, are you just going to sit there all day, or are we going to have some fun?'

'You... you want to skip school?' Greg asked.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'Like you've never done it before.'

'Well, yeah, _I_ have,' Greg said, 'but... but...'

'I think it's time you realised that I'm not the person you think I am,' Mycroft cut in. 'And if you go get your spare helmet I'll explain everything to you, deal?'

Greg nodded and climbed off his bike, handing Mycroft the helmet. 'I expect a lot of fucking answers, Mycroft.'

'Just hurry up,' Mycroft said.

Greg scowled and took off, quickly running through the school and to his locker. He practically tore the door open after unlocking it, pushing his books aside to grab his spare helmet. Greg slammed the door shut and ran again, and when he re-joined Mycroft he was panting.

Mycroft smirked and took the helmet, Greg straddling his bike and Mycroft climbing on behind him.

'Anywhere in particular we're going?' Greg asked.

'Do you have spare clothes in your bag?'

'No.'

'Then to your house; you can sneak in, yes?'

Greg nodded and Mycroft squeezed his shoulder. 'Excellent, well hurry up.'

Greg scowled and was about to shout at him when Dimmock's BMW pulled in to the carpark. 'Jesus Christ,' he sighed.

'Problem?' Mycroft asked.

'Just shut up, would you?' Greg said.

'Ooh, someone's getting tougher around me,' Mycroft snickered.

Greg ignored him as Dimmock climbed out of his car, eyebrows shooting up when he saw Mycroft on the back of Greg's bike.

'Erm... what the fuck?' he asked.

'Fuck off,' Mycroft said.

Dimmock's mouth dropped open and Greg said, 'Dimmo, I'll explain later, alright?'

'What-the- _fuck_?' Dimmock repeated.

'Later,' Greg insisted, pulling his helmet back on while Mycroft did the same. 'I promise, mate,' Greg added. He turned his bike on and Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg's waist, the older teenager feeling his stomach flip.

He was sure he heard Mycroft chuckle as he guided his bike out of the carpark, leaving Dimmock standing beside his car gaping as they took off.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg parked around the corner from his house and left Mycroft with his bike. His mum would hear him if he got any closer and he didn't want to explain why he wasn't in school.

He climbed through his bedroom window and quickly changed into a pair of black skinny-jeans, a red-and-black checkered button-up shirt, and his ripped high-top Chucks. Greg stuffed his school uniform back into his bag before climbing out the window and running down the street.

Mycroft told Greg to go somewhere they wouldn't get caught, so Greg rode to the carpark near the local train station. He parked on the roof and pulled his helmet off, Mycroft doing the same behind him.

Greg watched as Mycroft set the helmet down and went to lean on the concrete barrier, looking over the edge as he dug around for his cigarettes.

'So,' Greg said, joining the other teenager. He accepted a cigarette from him and waited.

'So,' Mycroft echoed before adding, 'I suppose you want answers?'

'Erm... yeah, that'd be pretty good,' Greg admitted.

'Ask away,' Mycroft said, blowing smoke rings.

'Okay, first; what the fuck's with the sudden personality change?' Greg demanded. 'You got multiple ones or something?'

Mycroft chuckled, leaning further against the barrier. 'No, I don't, Gregory. What you see right now is me; Mycroft Edwin Holmes, in the flesh.'

'So why the posh act at school and everywhere else?' Greg asked.

Mycroft tilted his head. 'I'm expected to act a certain way,' he admitted, 'which includes being a gentleman, doing well in school, and not showing any real emotion in public. I was taught to be like that from my father, who was taught by _his_ father, and so and so forth. I have an image to maintain, Gregory.'

'And you can't just be yourself?' Greg said, looking at Mycroft as they spoke.

'No,' Mycroft shook his head. 'My father isn't the kindest man, and I'd face boarding school, a therapist, disownment, or something else equally thrilling if he learned that I was gay and liked wearing make-up.'

'Right,' Greg said, 'so... you just act like a posh dick during the day, but at parties you're... this?'

Mycroft nodded. 'If I want the job I'm aiming for than yes, I have to act like a posh, well-respected young man. But at parties and when I'm home alone, I dress how I want and act how I want. It's easier than fighting my father and losing my home.'

'I can see that,' Greg said, suddenly thanking whatever higher power there was that he had such an awesome and understanding mum. 'And shagging every bloke you can get your hands on? What's with that?'

Mycroft chuckled, blue eyes moving slowly to rest on Greg. 'I'm seventeen-years-old, Gregory.'

'Right, but-'

'I haven't found anyone who satisfies me sexually,' Mycroft admitted. 'If I did I wouldn't be-'

'A whore?' Greg supplied.

Mycroft snorted. 'Look who's talking.'

'I never said I wasn't a whore,' Greg smiled. 'I should have business cards made up. "Gregory Lestrade: Boy Slut".'

Mycroft chuckled and took a long drag of his cigarette while Greg looked over the barrier, watching cars and people go by.

'Why do _you_ sleep around?' Mycroft asked.

'You know why,' Greg said. 'Everyone fucking sucks in bed.'

'Hmm, seems we have the same problem,' Mycroft mused.

They lapsed into silence, just staring at the world around them. When Mycroft lit another cigarette Greg asked, 'Why me?'

'Why you what?' Mycroft asked.

'Why are you telling me all this?'

'I think we've had this conversation,' Mycroft said.

Greg rolled his eyes. 'Telling me I'm interesting doesn't help, Mycroft.'

' _That's_ why, Greg,' Mycroft said, making the other teenager frown. 'You're the only person who's ever wanted to know why I'm doing this,' Mycroft continued. 'All the guys I've fucked didn't bother looking past my cock to see who I am. They just wanted me to fuck them, or to ride them, they never even looked and realised I'm Mycroft Holmes.

'But you questioned me, you demanded to know why,' Mycroft said. 'You're actually curious.'

'Well... yeah. I mean, this is really fucking bizarre,' Greg said.

Mycroft chuckled. 'You're also amazingly good-looking,' he admitted, eyes looking over Greg slowly. 'You're smart, funny, and just... you. I don't know what it is, but I like it.'

'So, what, you fancy me?' Greg asked.

Mycroft just smiled and turned away, inhaling cigarette smoke as Greg stared at him.

'So... what are we doing, exactly?' Greg finally asked, breaking the silence that had descended. 'I mean, you snog me, then give me a hand job, but at school you act like we barely know each other.'

'I just thought it'd be easier to pretend nothing had happened,' Mycroft admitted. 'After all, why would you want to be seen at school with Mycroft Holmes?'

Greg looked down and Mycroft chuckled.

'It doesn't matter, Greg, I don't care what people think of me... well, I care what _you_ think.'

'You do?' Greg asked, looking back up.

Mycroft was smiling at him. 'Did you like me kissing you?'

'Of course I did.'

'And the hand job?'

Greg rolled his eyes. 'What kind of stupid-arsed question is that?' he demanded. 'Of course I fucking liked it; best hand job ever.'

Mycroft smiled. 'So you want to continue this?'

'Define... _this_.'

'Why?' Mycroft asked.

'What, you just want to continue doing whatever it is we're doing?' Greg asked.

Mycroft inclined his head. 'I don't see why we need to establish exactly what it is. I'm attracted to you, you to me, and we have fun together, don't we?' Greg nodded. 'So let's just see where it goes.'

'Okay...' Greg said, turning back to lean on the barrier. He lit another smoke and Mycroft went back to staring over the edge.

'No more questions?' Mycroft asked.

'Um...' Greg thought, 'when did you start acting like this?' he asked. 'I've never seen you at any parties before that one where you fucked that James guy.'

'Believe me, I've been there,' Mycroft smiled. 'I just didn't let you see me.'

'Oh.'

'All of this didn't happen overnight,' Mycroft continued, 'but I suppose it really started when I hit puberty. I wanted to listen to music my father and mother didn't approve of, I wanted to dress in clothes they certainly wouldn't like. I started hanging around certain people at my old school; smoking, drinking, and looking at boys.'

Greg smiled, remembering when he'd started fancying the local boys.

'It all kind of progressed from there,' Mycroft said. 'And as you know, I moved here when I was fifteen, and I decided I'd continue to hide it. It's just much easier keeping it from my parents when everyone thinks I'm boring, posh Mycroft Holmes.'

'I can see that,' Greg nodded. 'Any particular reason you suddenly decided to show me last week?'

'Well, I've heard of your reputation, of course,' Mycroft said. 'And I was steadily working my way through all the gay and bisexual men from the neighbouring towns. When our mothers started having tea more often I found that I wanted to spend time with you, so I bumped into you at that party.'

'Wait, that was planned?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft smirked at him, smoke streaming from his nose. 'I never leave anything to chance, Gregory.'

'I don't think I'll ever fucking understand you,' Greg admitted.

'Do you have to?' Mycroft asked.

Greg chuckled. 'No, I suppose not.'

'Good.'

Greg smiled. _Yeah_ , he thought, glancing at Mycroft from the corner of his eye. _It was_ really _good_.


	10. Shut Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver
> 
> Chapter Title: Shut Up by Simple Plan

Greg never thought he'd have anything in common with Mycroft Holmes. But as he and Mycroft talked, swapping cigarettes, heated-glances, and the occasional touch, he learned that he had a lot in common with Mycroft.

They both listened to the same bands (Green Day, Muse, My Chemical Romance, and various others), they both liked dressing in black, swearing, drinking and smoking, they both _really_ liked shagging guys, and they both enjoyed school.

Of course, Greg would never admit to anyone else that he actually liked learning. There was something about filling your brain with new information that was satisfying and interesting to Greg. He just never bothered with school work because he was too busy trying to find a guy who could fucking shag him properly. Mycroft, of course, did excellent in school and was always top of the year. Greg knew he was a genius, but had never really understood just what that meant.

Mycroft had an eidetic memory (not that _he_ believed in such things, he just said he knew how to use his brain) and could speak six languages (German, Mandarin, French, Italian, Spanish, and English). He knew everything there was to know about world politics, the stock market, mathematics, and technology.

He also knew how to fight (he was a black belt in _something_ , Greg had just stared at him, mouth gaping, when Mycroft had managed to pin him to the ground in three seconds flat), how to talk himself out of anything (or talk people into things, like when he'd shagged John Ralling), and, of course, he knew how to deduce people.

He told Greg that it was the small things that people missed that made up the bigger picture. If Greg had had toast for breakfast, there would most likely be crumbs on his shirt, his lips, or his breath would smell like peanut butter or jam. All Mycroft and Sherlock did was see that, run the information through their brains, and produce the most likely answer.

It made more sense now that Mycroft had explained it, but Greg still didn't see how the Holmes brothers actually did it.

There was also the rebellious attitude Mycroft and Greg both had. They found it immensely fun to drink while underage, smoke while underage, skip school and break the law in small ways, and just have fun. Greg knew he was your stereotypical hell-raiser; he smoked, he drank, he fucked. It didn't make him cool and it wouldn't help him later in life.

But Greg thought, and Mycroft agreed, that your teenage years were when you were _supposed_ to fuck up and make mistakes. What was the point of getting a good job later in life when you hadn't actually had fun? Greg didn't want to have any regrets. He didn't want to one day be sitting in an office somewhere and think that he'd wasted his life.

So yeah, he fucked around, but he still passed all his classes and he never really hurt anyone. He always used a condom when having sex and helped his mum out around the house. Mycroft then pointed out that really Greg was a good-little-boy who just pretended to be a screw-up.

Well, the only way Greg could wipe that fucking smirk off Mycroft's face was to kiss him.

Mycroft gasped in surprise, and Greg was once again hit with the thought that Mycroft wasn't used to anyone taking control. Mycroft always came in, cock out, and fucked whoever he'd picked for the night until they couldn't remember their own name. And even if he was technically on the bottom, he _still_ topped; he was _always_ in control.

What Mycroft really needed was for someone else to take over and fuck _him_ , whether that meant actually fucking him, or letting Mycroft fuck them. Mycroft needed a partner who fought his dominance every step of the way; someone who made Mycroft _work_ for their submission. But that someone also had to be able to dominate Mycroft, to push him down and screw him into the mattress.

And a large part of Greg hoped that he was the one who could finally satisfy Mycroft Holmes.

Not that he fancied him or anything.

'Cause he absolutely did not.

 _Fuck Dimmock_ , Greg thought as he licked at Mycroft's bottom lip.

Mycroft pulled back and raised an eyebrow. 'What?' Greg asked.

'You're thinking and it's annoying,' Mycroft said.

Greg blinked. 'How can me thinking be annoying?'

'It's too loud and obvious in the way you're kissing me,' Mycroft explained. 'You're not thinking about the kiss, therefore you're not giving it your complete attention. And I really, _really_ fucking hate when people aren't focused on me when we're kissing.'

Greg rolled his eyes and pulled Mycroft in by the shirt. 'It's all about you, isn't it?'

'Of course it is,' Mycroft smirked.

'You're a vain fucker, you know that?'

'Of course I do.'

'Shut the fuck up,' Greg said and crushed their lips back together. He made sure to focus entirely on Mycroft; Mycroft's soft, warm lips; Mycroft's long, wet tongue; Mycroft's firm, hard body; Mycroft's roaming hands, and heated crotch, and soft groans, and Jesus _fuck_ was kissing Mycroft Holmes absolutely fucking amazing.

Mycroft moaned quite audibly and Greg grinned- internally, of course, because God forbid Mycroft see that and comment on Greg not paying fucking attention to him. They stood beside the concrete barrier just snogging, hands roaming over each other's bodies, lips melding together, tongues and teeth and breath all clashing as they fought over who'd dominate the kiss.

When they broke apart for air, Greg buried his face in Mycroft's neck, kissing and nipping at the soft skin he found. Once again Mycroft inhaled sharply as Greg took control, his tongue lapping sloppily and making Mycroft shiver.

'You know,' Greg breathed heavily, voice slightly muffled, 'I haven't thanked you for that awesome hand job.'

'Um... n-no, you haven't,' Mycroft said, Adam's apple bobbing as Greg sucked back on his neck.

'Mm... suppose I'll have to do something now, huh?' Greg said.

Mycroft just nodded and suddenly found himself pushed against the barrier, Greg continuing to kiss and lick at his neck, his jaw, as he pulled at Mycroft's belt. Mycroft moaned when Greg's skilful fingers popped the button of his jeans, the zipper quickly being pulled down.

And then his hand was diving in and extracting Mycroft's rapidly hardening shaft. Greg palmed the hot, stiffening flesh, and pulled away from Mycroft's lips to look down.

'Jesus Christ, you really are fucking big,' Greg said. Mycroft was long- at least three or four inches longer than Greg himself- and rather thick. Greg couldn't help but imagine Mycroft fucking him and shivered as he stroked the taller teen from root to tip.

Mycroft pulled him back up, mashing his lips to Greg's and moaning as his cock was stroked. Damn it, it had been too long since he'd had been touched properly, and Greg was pretty good with just one hand. It wouldn't take long for Mycroft to come and he thrust his hips slightly, hoping Greg would move faster.

Instead Greg pulled away and Mycroft growled in annoyance. Greg smirked and pecked Mycroft quickly on the lips before getting to his knees.

Mycroft's eyes widened. Surely Greg wasn't going to-

Suddenly Greg was leaning forward and Mycroft said, 'Greg- _ah_!' He cut himself off with a hiss as Greg's warm, wet mouth slid over his cock, tongue flicking out to lick away the pre-come that was already oozing from the slit.

Mycroft threaded his fingers through Greg's hair and tugged him forward slightly while thrusting, hoping Greg would get the fucking idea and suck him off.

Greg smirked and pulled back until only the very tip of Mycroft's cock was in his mouth. He ran his tongue teasingly around the crown, the organ flicking ever so lightly and making Mycroft grunt in annoyance.

Greg's tongue continued to torture the taller boy until he flattened it, stroking along Mycroft's slit and lapping away pre-come. Mycroft moaned embarrassingly loudly and Greg snickered, breath blowing across Mycroft’s shaft.

He pulled back and Mycroft cursed, glaring down at Greg as the older boy licked down his entire length, lips pressing soft kisses to the heated flesh before moving down to his balls.

One hand cupped Mycroft's sack, rolling his testes between warm fingers, while his other hand moved from Mycroft's hip and up to his stomach. His fingers pushed under Mycroft's shirt to stroke the soft, warm skin he found, and Mycroft's head lolled back as Greg touched and licked him.

Greg dug his fingers in and scraped his nails up and down Mycroft's stomach while he licked and kissed his shaft, free hand fondling the taller teenager's sack.

'Fucking hell, Greg,' Mycroft moaned.

Greg smiled smugly before leaning down to lick and suckle at Mycroft's balls. Mycroft's hips jolted forward, cock sliding along Greg's cheek and leaving a light trail of pre-ejaculate.

'Oi!' Greg exclaimed, drawing back.

'Well if you'd just suck my fucking cock!' Mycroft snapped.

'Calm down, boy slut.'

'Says the guy sucking my- _uuh_...' Mycroft trailed off into a moan when Greg's left hand dived down the back of his boxers, squeezing one cheek while his lips wrapped back around his shaft. Greg's other hand joined the first and he kneaded Mycroft's soft, plump arse as he took more cock into his mouth.

 _God, he has the_ best _arse_ , Greg thought as he sucked.

'Fuck!' Mycroft whimpered, pushing forward. Finally Greg squeezed his arse, pulling him closer, and Mycroft's prick sank further into his mouth. 'Finally,' Mycroft moaned, making Greg smirk around him.

Greg sank further down, lips expanding as he slowly but surely swallowed half of Mycroft down. He pulled back slowly, lips pressing around Mycroft's girth, tongue licking at his heated skin.

Mycroft moaned as Greg drew back until only the tip was in his mouth. His tongue flicked out again, cleaning away the pre-ejaculate, before Greg sank back down.

Mycroft couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this good and twisted his fingers through Greg's short, spiky brown hair. Greg's mouth was so warm and wet, and his tongue was doing deliciously dirty things to his cock. Greg's eyes were dark and kept flicking between Mycroft's own eyes and his crotch, and Mycroft leaned heavily against the concrete barrier as Greg started to speed up.

Greg's hands disappeared and one latched onto Mycroft's hip, the other circling his cock and pumping every time he drew back. Mycroft's hips pushed forward again and Greg moaned around him, Mycroft burying his cock further down Greg's throat.

Greg loved this; loved having a thick, warm cock sliding along his tongue, a gorgeous guy twisting fingers through his hair. The fact that it was Mycroft- calm, sexy, always-in-control Mycroft Holmes- just made it ten times better.

So he sucked, licked, and swallowed, wanting to see Mycroft come because of _him_. He wanted Mycroft to fuck his mouth, to come right down his throat, to completely fall apart and shout Greg's name.

And with the way Mycroft was grunting and pulling at his hair, that might be a real occurrence. His nails were digging painfully into Greg's scalp, his head tossed back and lips parted as he drew in deep, ragged breaths. His hips were moving more now, the head of his cock hitting the back of Greg's throat and making him choke.

'G-Greg,' Mycroft gasped, other hand coming up to hold Greg's face in place. Greg moaned and bobbed up and down Mycroft's shaft, the taller teenager sweating, face flushed. 'F-Fuck, I c-can't,' Mycroft stuttered. 'Greg, I'm gonna... uh... fuck...'

Greg grabbed Mycroft by both hips, fingers digging in as he pulled Mycroft forward, head moving quickly and saliva dripping down his red, swollen lips. Mycroft moaned and his last control seemed to snap, because he slammed into Greg hard and furious, Greg choking loudly before Mycroft pulled out.

He sucked in a lungful of air before Mycroft was jamming himself back in, fucking Greg's face with abandon, head bent and eyes squeezed shut. Greg just relaxed his throat and jaw, making sure to lick Mycroft's shaft whenever he drew out and swallow when he forced himself back in.

Greg was still gripping Mycroft's hips tightly and felt the other teenager tense before he was drawing back. Greg leapt forward, sinking back onto Mycroft's cock and sucking hard-

Mycroft came with a hoarse shout of, 'GREG!' He emptied himself down Greg's throat and Greg swallowed the salty liquid, a few drops escaping and dripping down his bruised lips. Mycroft shuddered and cursed, nails close to drawing blood where they dug into Greg's scalp.

When Mycroft had control of himself he pulled back, sliding from Greg's mouth with a slick wet sound. Mycroft blinked, staring down at Greg, who was still on his knees. Greg was breathing almost as heavily as Mycroft, only he had an annoying erection pressing against his zipper.

Greg stumbled to his feet and groaned, rubbing his aching knees.

'You shouldn't have done that,' Mycroft breathed heavily.

'Why?' Greg asked in a slightly hoarse voice, wiping his lips and sucking his thumb clean.

'I wasn't wearing a condom,' Mycroft said.

Greg snorted. 'I trust that you're a clean boy slut.' Mycroft scowled at him. 'Oh come on, you want me to go to your doctor and get your medical history?'

'I don't fancy catching any type of disease for a few minutes of pleasure,' Mycroft said.

Greg rolled his eyes. 'That's only the second time I've ever given a bloke a blow job without a condom, alright?' When Mycroft raised an eyebrow, Greg said, 'Dimmock and I shagged, just once, back when he wondered if he really was bi, or gay. I agreed to let him fuck me to see if he was. We did, and I knew he was a virgin _and_ we used a condom for the actual penetration, so no harm done.'

Mycroft continued to stare at him.

'Mycroft, I _always_ use a condom, even for oral sex,' Greg said. 'I get checked out every month just to be safe; my mum makes me do it, actually, which was _really_ fucking embarrassing the first time she forced me to go.' Mycroft snorted. 'Anyway, I always use condoms; I'm not a fucking idiot. And if you weren't clean you would have stopped me.'

'I _did_ try to stop you,' Mycroft said.

'Oh,' Greg blinked.

'We barely know each other,' Mycroft reminded him as he tucked himself back in. 'How can you trust me that much? I could have lied to you.'

Greg tilted his head. 'I dunno,' he finally shrugged. 'I just do, alright?' He paused, a smirk pulling at his lips. 'Why, are you a dirty boy slut?'

'No,' Mycroft scowled, making Greg grin. 'I get tested monthly, like you.'

'See? No harm done,' Greg said, closing the distance between them and pressing a kiss to Mycroft's lips. 'Now stop ruining the fucking fun and let's go get something to eat, I'm starving.'

'You just ate, how can you be hungry?' Mycroft retorted.

'Oh, _cheeky_ boy slut,' Greg chuckled. He squeezed Mycroft's arse and kissed him hard, the two breathing heavily against each other. When they broke apart Mycroft licked his lips and Greg said, 'You taste good, yeah?'

'You're disgusting,' Mycroft said, pushing him away.

Greg snickered. 'Not what you said five minutes ago.'

Mycroft kicked him in the arse and Greg yelped, scowling when Mycroft chuckled.

'So, food?' Mycroft asked.

'Yes please.'

'We can go to the McDonalds just outside of town,' Mycroft said. 'Less chance of a teacher seeing us.'

'Sounds good,' Greg said, walking back to his bike, Mycroft following. 'The least you can do is buy me a Quarter Pounder after I sucked your cock.'

Mycroft just snorted.


	11. Afternoon Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver

Mycroft paid for their food and Greg dropped into his seat, dragging the tray towards him and quickly grabbing his burger. He ripped into it while simultaneously guzzling down some Coke, shoving chips into his mouth, and trying to find the sauce.

Mycroft watched with a raised eyebrow as Greg devoured his Quarter Pounder in what looked like five bites before moving on to the chicken nuggets.

'What?' Greg said when he realised he was being watched.

'Do you always eat like this?' Mycroft questioned.

Greg smiled and said, 'Well, I skipped breakfast, so fuck manners.'

Mycroft chuckled and started picking at the fries, watching Greg eat. A middle-aged woman walked past their table and tutted audibly- both at their clothing and the way Greg was eating- and Greg poked his tongue out, making the woman huff and storm away.

'Seriously, what'd she think, I was gonna attack her 'cause I wear black?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft shrugged. 'The human mind is a complex thing.'

'It ain't,' Greg said. 'People are just fucking stupid.'

'It _isn't_ not it _ain't_ ,' Mycroft corrected.

Greg rolled his eyes. 'I keep forgetting you're still a posh fuck.'

'There's nothing wrong with speaking proper English,' Mycroft said and kicked Greg under the table.

The other boy yelped and Mycroft snickered. 'Prick,' Greg shot at him before cramming two chicken nuggets in his mouth and chewing loudly.

'You're a disgusting pig, do you know that?' Mycroft said.

Greg opened his mouth to show Mycroft his chewed food and Mycroft kicked him again. Greg grinned and swallowed his mouthful before grabbing at some more nuggets.

Greg's mobile buzzed in his pocket and Mycroft watched as the teen dug around for it for a few seconds before pulling it out.

'Fucking Dimmock,' Greg grunted as he opened the message;

 

_Gonna explain what the fuck happened today?_

 

Greg sighed and texted back, Mycroft watching him.

 

**Jesus, got something up your arse, Dimmo? Just fucking wait.**

 

'Problem?' Mycroft asked.

'Nah, just Dimmock being a wanker,' Greg said.

'Why do you call him Dimmock?' Mycroft queried.

Greg scratched at his head and said, 'Well, he hates being called Michael, dunno why. I've known him as Dimmo my entire life.'

'How long have you known him?'

'Um... well, since we were, like, four,' Greg answered. 'He lives a few streets away so we used to fuck around when we were little, and he was the first person I came out to. He was real supportive, always has been.'

'Weren't you worried about ruining your friendship by sleeping together?' Mycroft asked.

Greg smiled at the sudden game of Twenty Questions that Mycroft seemed to have started. 'Nah... well, a little,' he answered honestly. 'Dimmo admitted to me that he was feeling all funny around some blokes, me included, and I remembered feeling that when I hit puberty.

'So I talked to him about it and he asked if he could, you know, kiss me. So we did, and that was nice, and then he asked if he could fuck me; he wanted to do it with someone he trusted in case it didn't work out.'

Greg leaned back, dipping a nugget into his sauce and shoving it into his mouth before continuing. 'I said no at first, I didn't want it to fuck everything up, like you said. But eventually he wore me down and we slept together.'

'What happened then?'

'Why all the questions?'

'I'm curious,' Mycroft shrugged.

Greg snorted but said, 'Well, he said it was fantastic, and I said that was good, and _he_ said he still liked girls as well, and _I_ said that was disgusting, and _he_ wanted to know if we could do it again, and _I_ said he was hot and all, but the sex was _fine_ , not _amazing_ , so no.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'And he just accepted that?'

'He had to,' Greg shrugged. 'He was a bit hurt at first until I told him that's how I feel about every guy I've shagged; I get off, but it's nothing spectacular. Eventually he calmed down and we're as close as we've ever been.'

Mycroft was silent, bright blue eyes roaming over Greg slowly, as if looking for something. Greg just ate, leaving Mycroft to deduce whatever he was looking for. Eventually Mycroft looked away and picked at his fries.

Greg's phone buzzed, this time with the ringtone.

_I'm the son of rage and love! The Jesus of Suburbia! The bible of, none of the above, on a steady diet of..._

Greg answered, cutting Billie Joe Armstrong off and making Mycroft look up at him. 'What?' he demanded, having already glanced at the caller ID.

' _I love you too_ ,' Dimmock snorted.

'What part of 'just fucking wait', didn't you understand?'

' _The_ just _and_ wait _parts_ ,' Dimmock said. ' _I always understand fucking_.'

Greg rolled his eyes and leaned back, Mycroft watching him. 'Is there a reason you're so interested in my private life?'

' _Well_ fuck, _let me think about that question for a goddamn second_ ,' Dimmock mused and made a point to hum loudly. ' _Oh,_ that's _right; you took off on your bike with Mycroft fucking Holmes on the back, and you want me to bloody_ wait?'

'Jesus Christ, Dimmock, you're not my boyfriend or my mother,' Greg said.

' _And what_ would _Maggie Lestrade say if she found out her son is skiving school with Mycroft Holmes?_ '

'Fuck you,' Greg said and Dimmock laughed.

' _I'm not going to last period, Mrs Mallen is a freakin' bitch_ ,' Dimmock said, ignoring Greg's insult. ' _Come over to my place, my old man's at some fucking meeting with your boyfriend's dad_.'

Greg scowled and glanced at Mycroft, who was lazily stirring a chip in Greg's sauce. Greg turned away from him and whispered, 'He's _not_ my boyfriend.'

' _Not_ yet,' Dimmock retorted. ' _But you_ totally _want to be Mycroft Holmes' girlfriend, don't ya?_ '

'Why the fuck am I friends with you?' Greg demanded.

' _I'm loveable_ ,' Dimmock said. ' _Come on, you fucker, come over_.'

Greg sighed and rubbed his eyes, glancing at Mycroft again. 'If I do, you can't say any of that... that _shit_ , alright?'

' _If you come over, I promise not to mention to Mycroft Holmes that you fancy him_.'

'I don't!' Greg shouted, drawing attention to him and Mycroft from the other people eating.

Dimmock just laughed.

'Fuck you. I'll be there in an hour, alright?'

' _Your boyfriend's welcome to come_ ,' Dimmock replied and hung up before Greg could shout at him again.

Greg fumed as he stuffed his mobile back into his jeans. He looked up to see Mycroft licking a chip, one eyebrow raised. Greg gulped and said, 'Erm... fancy heading over to Dimmock's?'

 

{oOo}

 

Greg parked in Dimmock's driveway and Mycroft pulled himself off the bike first, tugging Greg's spare helmet off and running a hand through his hair.

'Erm, Mycroft?' Greg said after he'd pulled his own helmet off.

'Mm?'

'Just... don't listen to anything Dimmo says, okay?' Greg said.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and Greg chewed on his bottom lip. He really, _really_ didn't want Dimmock mouthing off that he liked Mycroft. It was bad enough that Greg acted like a fucking high-school girl with a crush around the other boy; he _so_ didn't need Dimmock throwing his two-cents in and making Mycroft think that Greg really liked him.

Well, Greg _did_ like him, just not in a like-like way... or something.

'Fuck,' Greg groaned, getting off his bike and hanging his helmet off the handlebars.

'You're talking to yourself,' Mycroft mused.

'I'm a complicated fucking person,' Greg retorted.

Mycroft chuckled and put the spare helmet on the other handlebar. 'Don't listen to Michael Dimmock; check.'

'Good,' Greg smiled and led the way up the driveway. He knocked on the front door and Dimmock answered a minute later dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

He looked between Greg and Mycroft for a few seconds before stepping back and saying, 'Gregory, lovely to see you.'

'Fuck off, wanker,' Greg snapped, walking into the house with Mycroft trailing behind him.

Dimmock snorted and led the other two to his bedroom, shutting the door when they entered. Greg immediately flopped onto the bed, back pressed to the wall and legs stretched before him, while Mycroft stood in the middle of the room, blue eyes roaming over the white walls, band posters, and various crap Dimmock had left lying around.

Soon he'd turned to look at Dimmock, who was staring at him openly. He inclined an eyebrow and Dimmock said, 'Yeah, so... what the fuck's with this?'

Mycroft just smiled and turned his back on Dimmock. Dimmock looked around him, raising his eyebrows at Greg, who smirked. Greg got a weird sense of satisfaction knowing that Mycroft had told _him_ the truth behind the whole "punk-rocker" look, while others like Dimmock were left in the dark.

'So,' Dimmock said when he realised Mycroft wasn't going to answer him. 'What'd you two get up to today?'

'Stuff,' Greg answered enigmatically while Mycroft sat on the bed. He flipped himself back, legs dangling over the end of Dimmock's bed, while he pushed his head into Greg's lap and got comfortable. Greg blinked down at him and Dimmock smirked at the look in his best friend's eyes.

'Stuff, huh?' Dimmock asked, sitting on the chair before his desk.

'Yeah, stuff,' Greg scowled. 'Why, you want a fucking detailed description?'

'Well, yeah, that'd be fucking spectacular,' Dimmock said, folding his arms. 'Just what the fuck are you two doing together?'

'Whatever we want,' Mycroft said, yawning and scratching at his head.

'So you're... what, fucking?' Dimmock asked. 'Dating, best buddies, what?'

'Is it any of your business?' Mycroft replied.

'Well, Greg _is_ my best friend,' Dimmock said. 'So, you know, just looking out for him.'

Mycroft snorted while Greg said, 'Bull-fucking-shit. You're just hanging to know what's going on with Mycroft.'

'Well _duh_ ,' Dimmock rolled his eyes. 'One minute he's a posh tit and the next he's... hmm, what did _you_ say, Greg?' He had an evil glint in his eyes and Greg scowled at him. 'Oh, yeah,' Dimmock continued. 'Sex-on-legs.'

Mycroft's blue eyes flicked up to Greg, who was blushing darkly and glaring at Dimmock.

'We're doing what we're doing, that's all you need to know,' Mycroft said, the heels of his shoes banging against the end of the bed. 'Get used to seeing us together.'

'Right...' Dimmock said.

'And not a word, Michael,' Mycroft smiled, the threat clear in his tone.

Dimmock held his hands up as Greg snickered. 'I heard you the first fucking time.'

Greg stuck his finger up at Dimmock before grabbing one of the magazines on the bedside table, leaning back and flipping through it. Mycroft just stayed staring at the ceiling, blue eyes glazed over as his feet thumped rhythmically against the bed.

Dimmock was trying to get over just how fucking _odd_ it was seeing Mycroft Holmes dressed like... well, like Greg. And then there was the way Greg and Mycroft were acting around each other; like they'd _always_ been best mates, or boyfriends, or just... Dimmock had no idea. There was a familiarity they were both expressing that Dimmock had never seen from Greg before. They just... _fit_.

And, of course, Greg was ignoring the fact that he _totally_ fancied Mycroft Holmes. Dimmock could see it in his eyes, his body language, and yet Greg seemed to be purposely ignoring it.

Well, more fun for Dimmock. This way he could tease Greg mercilessly until the other teen fucking admitted how he felt. And then, of course, Dimmock would tease him some more.

'You know, I asked you over here to actually talk,' Dimmock said. 'Not act like enigmatic pricks.'

'Well tough shit, Dimmo,' Greg said.

Dimmock shook his head and grabbed his PSP, switching it on and leaning back. Greg continued to flick through the magazine and Mycroft just stared at the ceiling.

'Gregory?' Mycroft said after a few minutes of silence.

'Mm?' Greg said without looking down at him.

'How did you come out to your mother?'

Greg blinked, turning away from the mag to look at Mycroft. 'What?'

'How did you tell her that you're gay?' Mycroft asked.

'Oh,' Greg said, putting the magazine aside. Dimmock looked over at them. 'Well... I just told her.'

'That's all?' Mycroft asked. 'You weren't worried about how she'd react?'

'Well... I've known I was gay since I was fourteen, and I've always been comfortable with who I am. So I just sat down one morning and told her.'

'What did she say?' Mycroft asked.

'She was a bit upset she'd never get a grandkid,' Greg admitted, 'though I reminded her I could adopt or something.' Mycroft smiled. 'Other than that, she was fine; said it didn't change who I was, I was still her little boy.' He shrugged.

'Hmm,' Mycroft mused, chipping at his nail polish.

'Why?' Greg asked.

'I'm just wondering how my mother and father will react when I decide to come out,' Mycroft said.

'Maybe like my dad,' Dimmock said, Mycroft looking at him. 'Completely freaked the fuck out, my old man.'

'Really?' Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded. 'Went absolutely ape-fucking-shit, I've never seen him that pissed off before.'

'He blamed Greg,' Dimmock told Mycroft, 'thought Greg had turned me gay. Didn't help when Greg fucking told him we'd shagged.'

'Well he asked how you knew you were bi if you'd never shagged a bloke,' Greg said. 'I thought I was helping.'

'Oh, yeah,' Dimmock scowled, 'saying, 'Well he _has_ been with a bloke, Mr Dimmock; he fucked me', is really bloody helpful, Greg. That's _really_ what every father wants to hear.'

Greg grinned and Mycroft chuckled, Dimmock rolling his eyes and settling back with his PSP.

'Come on, your dad forgave me eventually,' Greg said. 'You know, after a year of wanting to fucking kill me.'

'Well you took his little boy's virginity,' Dimmock said.

'You're such a fucking girl,' Greg snorted.

Dimmock threw a pillow at him, and Mycroft rolled clear to avoid getting hit.

'Well fine, if you're gonna be like that, Dimmo, I'll just find something else to do,' Greg said, looking at Mycroft.

'What?' Mycroft asked.

Greg grinned before launching himself forward, catching Mycroft by surprise and crushing their lips together. Mycroft fell heavily against the bed and gasped as Greg climbed atop him. Greg took advantage and snaked his tongue into Mycroft's mouth, stroking and coaxing his own to come out and play.

'Oi, fuck off,' Dimmock said when Mycroft wound his arms around Greg's neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss. Greg flipped Dimmock off without shifting away from Mycroft and Dimmock scowled. 'Stop fucking snogging on my bed, you cunts!'

The other two teenagers ignored him and Dimmock wondered if he should hose them down. He didn't fancy seeing Mycroft and Greg shag on his bed, and he sure as hell wasn't going to leave them alone.

There were wet sucking sounds now, and Dimmock sighed, trying not to look up (though he very much wanted to, he was in a relationship, thank you very much).

Suddenly Mycroft rolled them, straddling Greg's lap and smirking down at him.

'You're such a fucking prick,' Greg breathed.

'You love it,' Mycroft teased before leaning down, taking Greg's bottom lip between his teeth and dragging back. Greg moaned loudly and when Mycroft let him go, he pulled the taller boy down to snog him again.

'Un-fucking-believable,' Dimmock sighed.

Mycroft and Greg continued to make out, pinching and slapping each other as they each tried to lead the kiss. The power kept shifting- one minute Mycroft would be attacking Greg's neck, Greg moaning, and the next Mycroft would be on his back with Greg rutting hard against him.

Dimmock ignored them as best he could- though glanced up occasionally just to take in the sight of Mycroft Holmes sucking on Greg's tongue- until it really looked like the two were going to fuck each other right there.

'Oi, take it someplace else,' Dimmock shouted.

'You're the one who told me to come over,' Greg grunted as he licked and nipped at Mycroft's ear. 'If you hadn't, we'd be doing this somewhere else.'

Dimmock opened his mouth to reply when his bedroom door burst open, effectively cutting him off and making him pale. His dad, Ryan Dimmock, walked into the room with a stack of mail, and stopped dead when he saw the couple snogging on the bed.

'Oh dear Lord,' Mr Dimmock scowled.

Greg quickly pulled away and grinned up at Mr Dimmock before leaping to his feet. Mycroft blinked and sat up, rubbing his swollen lips and looking at the older man.

'Hello, sir,' Greg beamed widely, voice upbeat and absolutely dripping with brightness.

Mr Dimmock scowled. 'Get out, Gregory.'

'Yes, sir,' Greg smirked. 'Should I take him with me?' He jerked at thumb at Mycroft, who was smiling slightly. 'I can leave him here, maybe Michael wants a turn-'

'Just get out!' Mr Dimmock shouted.

'Yes, sir,' Greg repeated and linked his fingers with Mycroft's. 'Seeya, Dimmo!' he called before dragging Mycroft from the house.

Dimmock watched them leave before turning to his dad, mentally preparing himself for the tongue-lashing.

 

{oOo}

 

'That was awkward,' Mycroft hummed as they stepped out of the house.

'Dimmo's dad's a fuckwit, he likes to ignore the gay part of his son,' Greg said. 'I like to rub my gayness in his face every chance I get.'

'Yes, well I don't think you could get any gayer than making out with a guy in Dimmock's bedroom,' Mycroft chuckled.

'Oh, I dunno,' Greg smirked. 'We coulda fucked.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes as he and Greg reached the latter's bike. Greg straddled the machine and grabbed his helmet, Mycroft doing the same.

'You gotta be home anytime soon?' Greg asked.

'I should probably go soon,' Mycroft said, checking his watch.

'Where'd you park your car?'

'At John Watson's house.'

'I'll give you a lift, just point the way,' Greg said. Mycroft kissed his neck and Greg tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach as he turned his bike on.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg pulled up just outside John Watson's, spotting Mycroft's jaguar parked just behind a red BMW. Mycroft climbed off the bike and he and Greg both took their helmets off.

'Keep it,' Greg said when Mycroft tried to give his spare one back. 'This way you'll be prepared when you wanna fucking jump me at school.'

Mycroft snorted and brushed a hand through his hair, Greg watching.

'So...' Greg finally said, breaking the silence that had descended. 'I guess we'll go back to not talking at school?'

Mycroft shrugged and pulled out his cigarettes, lighting one quickly. 'I suppose we could make out in the library.'

Greg swallowed thickly at the images that sprang forth and Mycroft smirked. 'Erm, yeah,' Greg said, 'that sounds... good.'

'As I've said before, Gregory, I don't care what people think of me,' Mycroft said. 'If you want to be seen in school with me, fine. If not, I couldn't give two shits.'

'I don't care what people say,' Greg said.

'Even if they tease you for hanging out with posh Mycroft Holmes?' Mycroft asked, raising an eyebrow. When Greg shook his head, Mycroft smirked. 'I guess we'll see.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

Mycroft paused before leaning down, pressing his lips to Greg's in a chaste kiss. Greg grabbed Mycroft by the hair to deepen it, and Mycroft chuckled against his lips. When they broke apart Greg's face was flushed, Mycroft's own cheeks dusted pink.

Mycroft smiled and kissed him quickly before saying, 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Yeah,' Greg repeated, watching as Mycroft walked to his car, Greg's spare helmet tucked under his arm. Greg shook his head and re-started his bike, tugging his helmet back on and pulling out onto the road.

He could feel Mycroft's eyes on him as he rode away.


	12. Texting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver

Greg stopped off at the McDonalds closest to home to get changed back into his school uniform. He was still thinking about Mycroft when he got home, sliding from his bike and pulling his helmet off.

Greg couldn't quite believe that he'd just spent the entire day with Mycroft Holmes- and a school day at that. Well, Greg shouldn't have been surprised that Mycroft would bunk off school, what with everything else he did.

Greg was whistling when he walked into the house and Maggie glanced up at him from where she was chopping vegetables for dinner.

'Someone had a nice day,' she commented.

Greg fought to keep the blush from his face as he said, 'Erm, yeah, not bad.' Maggie raised an eyebrow. 'Just... you know, good,' Greg shrugged.

Maggie chuckled. 'Teenagers; always glossing over everything.' She kissed Greg's cheek when her son nicked a carrot, chewing on it after poking his tongue out at her. 'Anything interesting happen today?'

'Erm... got kicked out of Dimmock's by his dad,' Greg said.

'I thought he'd got over that,' Maggie frowned. She'd heard all about Michael Dimmock being bisexual, what with the boy's father calling Maggie to shout at her about her "good-for-nothing-faggot" son.

'Yeah, well apparently snogging a bloke in his house is where he draws the line,' Greg said, grabbing another carrot.

'Who were you snogging?' Maggie asked.

'Erm...' Greg blushed, his mother smiling. 'N-Nobody.'

'Nobody, huh?' Maggie teased. 'Not Michael, he's seeing that Molly girl.'

'N-No, not Michael,' Greg mumbled, looking away.

'Who were you snogging, Gregory?' Maggie asked, grinning when her son blushed darker.

'Nobody, alright?' Greg lied, grabbing one last carrot before trying to escape.

'Gregory, tell me all about him!' Maggie said, following down the hallway. 'Are you boyfriends, do you love each other, is he cute?'

'Shove off, Mum,' Greg scowled.

Maggie giggled. 'Come on, Greggie, I promise not to tell anyone.'

'Mum-'

'He's cute, isn't he?' Maggie asked.

'Get lost, Mum!' Greg growled, trying to lock her out of his room.

'Is he a good kisser?' Maggie demanded as the door was slammed in her face.

'You're a weirdo!' Greg shouted.

'I live with _you_ , of course I am!' Maggie replied with a giggle.

Greg scowled at his closed door before tugging his uniform off and getting into a pair of pyjama bottoms and a ratty t-shirt.

'What the bloody hell is wrong with you?' Greg berated himself. 'Yeah, just fucking tell her that you were snogging some bloke today, _that_ won't make her ask questions.'

He scowled and kicked his laundry basket before jumping on his bed to hide under the blankets.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg had just sat down to dinner- Maggie was still grinning at him- when his mobile went off. Greg stood back up and went into his bedroom, grabbing his mobile and coming back out.

Maggie ladled soup into two bowls, placed a basket of bread between them, and used the remote to flick the TV behind them on while Greg read the text.

 

_My mother asked why my neck is red. Shall I tell her it's your fault? - MH_

 

Greg smiled when he saw the "MH" at the end of the text. He quickly saved the number before texting back.

 

**Well that's a quick way to come out, isn't it? "Mum, this totally hot guy at school sucked on my neck- AFTER he sucked my cock- and that's why my skin is red" - Greg**

 

Maggie watched as Greg played with his soup, glancing at his phone every few seconds until it buzzed again.

 

_I don't fancy my mother finding out I'm gay because of a few love-bites on my neck. And why, dear Gregory, would I say 'cock' to my mother? - M_

 

Greg snorted, fingers flying over the touch-screen.

 

**You're such a girl, you know that?**

 

'Who are you texting?' Maggie asked.  
Greg jumped, dark eyes flicking up to see that his mother was staring at him. He cleared his throat and said, 'Erm, just a mate.'

'Just a mate?' Maggie echoed.

Greg nodded quickly and Maggie watched as his phone buzzed yet again, making Greg smile a little as he looked down.

 

_You wound me - M_

 

Greg snorted and Maggie smiled slightly.

 

**What's with putting an "M" on the end of every text? I know who you fucking are.**

 

'Greg, your soup's going cold,' Maggie said.

'Huh?' Greg blinked.

'Dinner,' Maggie said, nodding at the bowl Greg hadn't touched.

'Oh, er, sorry,' Greg said, ruffling his hair before grabbing his spoon. When his phone beeped he dropped the spoon immediately and Maggie chuckled- not that Greg noticed.

 

_Call it a quirk of mine - M_

 

Greg rolled his eyes and Maggie said, 'Greg, dinner.'

'Just a sec,' Greg mumbled, not taking his eyes off his phone.

 

**You're a giant fucking quirk, you know that? Wait, how'd you get my fucking number?**

 

'Gregory-'

' _Alright_ ,' Greg cut in, grabbing his spoon and dunking it into his bowl. He made a point to stare at his mum and slurp loudly, Maggie snorting as she ate. He dunked a piece of bread into his soup and bit into it.

When his phone buzzed yet again, Greg crammed the entire piece into his mouth and chewed as he read the text.

 

_I have many talents, Gregory Lestrade - M_

 

Greg swallowed his mouthful and grabbed another piece of bread before his mum could start shouting at him. He dunked it into his bowl and texted with one hand, saying, 'See? I'm bloody eating.'

'Gregory.'

'Sorry, sorry,' Greg mumbled, eyes already dropping back to his phone as he typed.

 

**You're a fucking stalker. I'm gonna call the police on you, Mr Holmes.**

 

Greg put his phone on vibrate so it wouldn't keep interrupting dinner and glanced at the TV while he ate.

Maggie's attention was drawn between her dinner and her son; Greg was practically staring at his phone waiting for a response and Maggie wondered just who he was talking to.

The mobile buzzed across the table-top and Greg quickly grabbed it.

 

_And tell them what, exactly? 'A boy I know- I gave him a head job, by the way- somehow got my mobile number and won't stop texting me'. Yes, the police will be right on that - M_

 

Greg chuckled.

 

**Yeah, yeah, alright. So I won't call the cops. Why ARE you texting me, anyway? Still thinking about that blow job?**

 

'Gregory, who are you texting?' Maggie tried again.

'Just a friend,' Greg mumbled.

 

_Can't a friend text another friend at eight-thirty at night? - M_

 

Greg smiled and quickly texted back, wondering what Mycroft was doing. No doubt sitting in the dining room of that massive manor house the Holmeses lived in. Greg had never been there but he'd driven past it before.

 

**Oh, FRIENDS, are we?**

 

'A friend, huh?' Maggie asked.

'Mm,' Greg nodded vaguely, not really listening.

Soon Maggie just gave up as Greg ignored his dinner, instead slouching in his seat and staring at his phone, fingers moving over the screen.

 

_In a loose sense of the term, yes, we are friends - M_

 

**Friends who just happen to touch each other in naughty places?**

 

_That's the very best kind of friend - M_

 

**Hmm... how many friends DO you have?**

 

_Normal friends or naughty-place-touching friends? - M_

 

**You're a weirdo.**

 

_And...? - M_

 

 **And nothing :p** Greg bit his lip before adding, **Normal friends?**

 

_Zero - M_

 

Greg frowned, staring at his phone. He wondered what Mycroft did with his afternoons and weekends if he didn't have any mates to hang out with.

 

**Naughty-place-touching friends?**

 

Greg chewed on his lip as he waited for Mycroft's reply. It didn't really matter, did it? Mycroft was seventeen; there were probably loads of guys he went to for a quick shag. Greg himself had called on people he'd already fucked just to work out his sexual tension. Mycroft probably did the same thing.

So why was it so fucking annoying to think of Mycroft with other people?

When Mycroft finally replied Greg practically shook his phone to open his messages and Maggie watched in confusion.

 

_One, which would be you. And yourself? - M_

 

Greg breathed a sigh of relief and blushed when Maggie said, 'Receive some good news from your _friend_?'

Greg didn't miss the emphasis his mum put on the word _friend_ , but just said, 'Um, yeah, just... stuff.'

'That makes absolutely no sense,' Maggie said.

Greg shrugged.

 

**One. Well, at the moment I have just one- you.**

 

_Do you make it a habit to have more than one NPT friend? - M_

 

**What the hell is "NPT"?**

 

_Naughty-place-touching. Do keep up, Gregory - M_

 

**Mobile phones should come with a little icon that means flipping the bird. And no, I don't make it a habit, I was just saying to be clear.**

 

_Just take a picture - M_

 

**You want me to send you a picture of me flipping you off?**

 

_You flipping me off, you naked, either one - M_

 

Greg snorted and Maggie smiled at the look on his face.

 

**I'm not sexting you.**

 

_Why not? - M_

 

**Who knows what you'll do with the pictures. Stranger danger, Mycroft Holmes!**

 

_Yes, I'm really a 40-year-old man planning on having my wicked way with you. Well, the last part is true - M_

 

**What makes you think I'll let you have your wicked way with me?**

 

_All moments before this one tell me that, Gregory - M_

 

**You're a dick.**

 

_Oh, THAT'S right; you SUCKED my dick, didn't you? If that's not me having my way with you I don't know what is - M_

 

**Oi, fucker, I did that cause I wanted to, alright?**

 

_You still did it - M_

 

**And you gave me a hand job- let's not forget THAT.**

 

_Oh, believe me, I haven't - M_

 

**Think about me a lot, do you?**

 

_Well your responses to my hand are much more stimulating than videos - M_

 

**OH MY GOD, YOU WATCH PORN?!**

 

_Do you read my texts properly or just take in every fifth word? - M_

 

**... YOU WATCH PORN?!**

 

_I'm laughing at you right now and my mother is staring at me. Thank you, she now thinks I'm insane - M_

 

Greg chuckled, even more so when he realised that his own mum was staring at him.

 

**My mum's staring at me too.**

 

_Well aren't we lucky? Now Sherlock's staring at me too, only he knows who I'm texting - M_

 

**He does?**

 

_You've met my brother, yes? He knows everything - M_

 

**Oh, right, the "deducing" thing you do. Wait, so he knows we're... whatever it is we're doing?**

 

_Yes - M_

 

**How?**

 

_He realised I was acting odd around you and put it together – M_

 

**What did he put together?**

 

_That I was acting odd around you - M_

 

Greg frowned as he typed, **No, I mean...** Greg trailed off, both in his own head and in the message. He swore softly, Maggie staring at him, as he typed, **Fuck it, you've confused me.**

 

_Yes, well that was my plan :) - M_

 

**You're a cock.**

 

_And you have no new insults. A pity, here I thought you were intelligent - M_

 

**What gave you that idea? I'm a class-A fuckwit, I am :D**

 

_Don't put yourself down, Gregory, it's unattractive - M_

 

**I can't fucking win with you.**

 

_Whatever gave you the idea that you could? - M_

 

**Well I did make you come today ;)**

 

'Are you done, Greg?'

Greg jumped and quickly put his phone against his chest when he realised his mum was standing beside him. She raised an eyebrow and Greg said, 'Erm... what?'

'Are you done?' Maggie repeated, gesturing at his bowl.

Greg looked down and realised he'd barely touched his food, and that he'd been texting Mycroft for a good two hours.

'Um... can you heat it up?' Greg asked.

'Are you actually going to eat it or just text your _friend_?' Maggie asked.

Greg's mobile buzzed and he glanced down at it, his mother scowling when he looked back up. 'Um... yeah, I'll eat it,' Greg said. 'I promise.'

'If you don't...' Maggie said, trailing off and letting her threat hang as she put Greg's bowl in the microwave.

'I promise I will, Mum,' Greg said as she checked his phone.

 

_Mm, that WAS rather nice, wasn't it? - M_

 

**Only nice? I'm hurt.**

 

_Fantastic, awe-inspiring, brilliant, fucking spectacular- do you need any more words of praise? - M_

 

**Maybe :p**

 

_And you call ME odd - M_

 

**I never said you were odd- fucking WEIRD is what I said.**

 

_Hmm, that DOES sound more like you - M_

 

'Greg.'

Greg jumped for what felt like the tenth time that night as Maggie placed his bowl back in front of him. 'Thanks, Mum.'

'Eat, now; you can text your friend later,' Maggie said.

'Okay, I'll just text him back,' Greg said, quickly typing out a message to Mycroft, his mother watching.

 

**See, you know me already :) I gotta go, my mum's on my back about eating dinner. It's YOUR fault, by the way, and I'll make you pay for it in some horrible, horrible way, alright?**

 

Greg put his phone on his lap and grabbed his spoon, stirring the chunky soup before swallowing a few mouthfuls. When his phone buzzed Greg waited until Maggie had sat on the sofa to check it.

 

_I know you VERY well, Gregory, don't ever doubt my knowledge. Oh, poor baby, is your mummy being mean? Well make sure she tucks you into bed tonight, we wouldn't want Greggie to have a nightmare - M_

 

Greg snorted but busied himself with his dinner when Maggie glanced his way. Only when she was looking back at the TV did Greg type back.

 

**FUCK you, okay? I'll fucking give you a nightmare.**

 

'Greg?'

'Mm, yum,' Greg said loudly, grinning up at his mum.

'You're a terrible actor, buddy,' Maggie said.

'Am not,' Greg pouted.

Maggie just smirked as Greg's phone vibrated in his hand.

 

_Goodnight, Gregory - M_

 

Greg smiled, a warm feeling spreading through his chest. Maggie noticed and couldn't help but shake her head. _Friend my arse_ , she thought as Greg texted back.

 

**Night, Mycroft.**


	13. School Can Be Fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver

Greg was out of bed and dressed for school by seven. Maggie stared at him as he slathered jam over his toast, eating while checking his phone. She wondered if her son's suddenly bright mood had anything to do with the "friend" he'd been texting last night.

Maggie Lestrade wasn't blind, nor was she an idiot. She knew that her son slept around and had never had a boyfriend. Though Maggie didn't like the way Greg conducted himself with young men, there was nothing she could do.

Greg used condoms, he never forced anyone to do something they weren't into, and he didn't bring strange blokes home. He got himself checked out monthly at her request, was always polite to people in public, and had never been in too much trouble at school or with the police.

So she respected his privacy and hoped that one day he'd grow out of it, meet someone, and settle down. Greg was only seventeen, he didn't have to decide his entire future _now_ , nor did he have to get a serious boyfriend.

But Greg had _never_ looked as happy as he had the previous night while texting his "mate". Greg had never smiled like that, had never ignored his dinner in favour of texting someone. Maggie had been under the assumption that Greg either really liked sex, or hadn't found someone who could keep him interested.

Well, it seemed that was changing (not that _Greg_ would ever admit that). He was being extremely weird about who he'd been texting, and Maggie had to wonder if her son had finally found someone he really liked.

At ten past seven Greg finished off his breakfast, kissed his mum on the cheek, and left whistling under his breath and smiling stupidly.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg didn't realise how early it was until he pulled up in the school carpark. He checked his phone, found it was just after 7:30 and frowned. Classes didn't start until 8:30... what the hell was he supposed to do for an hour?

Cursing under his breath, Greg pocketed his keys and walked across the grass towards the smokers' area, figuring he'd sit and stuff around on his phone until his mates turned up or the bell went.

Greg sat with his back pressed to the bricks, helmet on the concrete beside him, and lit a cigarette. He blew smoke above his head and started tapping at his phone, checking his email, Facebook, and generally just wasting time.

When a shadow fell over him, Greg looked up, and couldn't stop the smile that spread across his face when he saw Mycroft.

The other teenager's uniform was absolutely perfect; his shirt was tucked in, all the buttons done up, and his navy-blue tie was pulled up to the collar. His blazer was also buttoned, his ginger-brown hair perfectly combed, his grey trousers pressed and leather shoes shined to perfection.

Despite all that- despite Mycroft looking like the posh git Greg had known for two years- the older teenager's heart still leapt, and he felt a definite stirring in his trousers. He could still see the _real_ Mycroft under all that; the slight smirk pulling at his lips, the commanding presence, the spark in his eyes, and the absolutely gorgeous arse his school trousers were hiding.

'Good morning, Gregory,' Mycroft said.

'Hey,' Greg said, practically leaping to his feet. He stuffed his phone into his pocket, threw his half-finished cigarette aside, and crushed his lips against Mycroft's.

'Mmf- Greg!'

Greg groaned and pulled back. 'What?'

'What are you doing?' Mycroft demanded.

'Erm... snogging you?' Greg tried.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'Yes, I am aware of that.'

'So why'd you ask?'

'You're snogging me... in school.'

'And...?'

'Is there a reason you're doing that?'

Greg smiled. 'Um... 'cause I like it?'

'Gregory-'

'Okay, okay, no kissing at school, Jesus,' Greg rolled his eyes.

'No, it's just...' Mycroft frowned, blue eyes roaming over Greg's face. 'What if someone sees us?'

'So what?' Greg said.

'You mean... you don't care?'

'Aah... nah, not really,' Greg said.

'You don't care, even though I'm Mycroft Holmes?' Mycroft asked.

'Well obviously not,' Greg said.

'But...'

'Mycroft, is this about the way I used to treat you?' Greg asked, frowning slightly when Mycroft nodded. 'What, you think I'm embarrassed to be with you or something?'

'Well... of course.'

'Jesus, Mycroft,' Greg sighed. 'We've talked about this; I don't give a fuck about that shit.'

'You don't?'

Greg shook his head. 'Look, I admit I was a fucking bastard to you before, and I _really_ don't know why you're letting me snog you, but I couldn't give two shits what anyone at school says. They don't know that you're really an awesome person, so fuck them.'

Mycroft's eyes stayed on Greg's, no doubt searching for something. Greg just waited patiently. Yeah, two weeks ago he would have died if anyone had caught him snogging Mycroft Holmes, but everything was different now. Greg knew who Mycroft really was- well, he knew _more_ about who Mycroft really was- and he wanted to snog him. He didn't care if everybody else still saw Mycroft as the school dickhead; Greg knew he was great, that was enough for him.

'You're serious,' Mycroft said; a statement, not a question.

'Well, yeah.'

'You don't care if other people still think I'm a boring fuck,' Mycroft said, 'because you know who I really am.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'I'll admit that I used to hate you, you just seemed so... fake.' He watched as Mycroft smiled slightly. 'And yeah, I was a prick to you, but I didn't know you, and I _am_ sorry-'

'You don't need to apologise,' Mycroft cut in. 'I was- well, I _am_ \- fake when I'm at school.'

'Yeah, but that doesn't mean I had to be such a cock to you,' Greg said, running a hand through his hair. 'I'm not a very good person.'

'You're just a little rough around the edges,' Mycroft smiled. 'Besides, if you were some boring fuck I wouldn't be wasting my time with you... _although_...'

'Oh, time wasting, is it?' Greg demanded, Mycroft smirking. 'Is that we we're doing?'

'Of course,' Mycroft said, acting bored as Greg chuckled. 'What else would we be doing?'

'Falling hopelessly, deeply in love?' Greg suggested, wrapping his arms around Mycroft's neck. 'Forcing our hearts- our very souls- to become one!'

'You're a fucking idiot,' Mycroft commented.

'Our hearts, Mikey!' Greg shouted, stumbling when Mycroft tried to push him away. 'Our hearts are becoming one!'

'Shut up!'

'How can I when our hearts-' Greg was effectively cut off when Mycroft pressed their lips together, the taller boy's warm, wet tongue stroking against his bottom lip. Greg opened his mouth immediately and Mycroft's tongue snaked in, dancing with his own, exploring his mouth hungrily.

Mycroft turned Greg and backed him into the wall, Greg letting out a gasp that Mycroft quickly swallowed. They snogged until they had to break apart for air, Greg looking up at Mycroft's flushed face.

'Well, school just got a lot fucking better,' Greg commented.

Mycroft chuckled and kissed his cheek softly, Greg tilting his head.

'What do you do at lunch?' Greg asked softly. 'Or during free periods?'

'Library or I sneak out for a cigarette,' Mycroft mumbled against Greg's skin. 'Why?'

'Just thought we could hang out.'

'You want me to hang out with you and your friends?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, 'could be fun. But if you don't wanna...'

He trailed off and Mycroft pulled back, blue eyes narrowed and calculating.

'It's just a suggestion,' Greg shrugged. 'I don't really care either way.'

Mycroft wet his lips before saying, 'How about you join me in the library?'

'The library?' Greg groaned. 'I don't think I've ever been in there in my fucking life.'

Mycroft chuckled and went back to kissing Greg's jaw, his neck. 'Come now, it can be fun.'

'Can it?'

'Mm-hmm.'

'Don't believe you,' Greg mumbled.

Mycroft smiled. 'I can make the library _very_ interesting, Mr Lestrade.'

He dragged Greg's earlobe between his teeth and the older boy moaned. 'Is... is that so?' he groaned, voice suddenly huskier than before.

'Mm-hmm.'

'Well... g-guess I'll have to check it out,' Greg said before tugging Mycroft back up for a thorough snog.

They were still kissing when Dimmock walked around the corner, the teenager yelping and stopping dead in his tracks. Mycroft pulled away from Greg with a sigh and Greg glared at his best friend.

'You know, this is even creepier than yesterday,' Dimmock commented.

'What?' Greg frowned.

'Well, Mycroft looks like... Mycroft.'

'You certainly have quite the grasp of the English language,' Mycroft smirked.

Dimmock rolled his eyes and said, 'You know what I meant!'

'Do I?' Mycroft asked.

Greg snickered, remembering Mycroft saying the exact same thing to him when they'd first run into each other at BJ Masters' place.

'Have you always been this annoying?' Dimmock demanded.

'Yes, you've just never been privy to it,' Mycroft smirked.

Dimmock rolled his eyes and Greg asked him, 'So was your dad majorly pissed off?'

'What do you think?' Dimmock said, digging for his cigarettes. 'He came home to find me in my bedroom watching two guys snog.'

'You were watching us?' Mycroft asked.

'Filthy boy,' Greg grinned.

' _Anyway_ ,' Dimmock continued, ignoring their smirks, 'he went on and on about Adam and Eve, how bad Greg is, how he's going hell, how _I'll_ go to hell if I let Greg in the house, and then finished by threatening to transfer me to St Mary's.'

'Oh _hell_ no!' Greg shouted, making Mycroft stare at him. 'Your dad is _not_ sending you to that fucking school! I'll have zero gay friends if you leave me!'

'Oh,' Dimmock said, batting his eyelashes and clutching his chest, 'I love you too, sweetie.'

Greg blew him a kiss and Dimmock chuckled, lighting his cigarette. Mycroft shook his head at the two before turning to Greg.

'I have to go.'

' _Noo_ ,' Greg whined, 'don't leave me with Dimmock, he's a prick.'

'Fuck you too, sunshine,' Dimmock said, flipping Greg off as he smoked.

Mycroft chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to Greg's lips, the other teenager grinning when they broke apart.

'So library, right?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded and kissed him again before leaving, Greg's head tilted and eyes on Mycroft's arse as he walked.

'Whipped,' Dimmock said and followed it up by making whipping noises.

Greg blinked and turned a glare on his best friend. 'Fuck off.'

'Whipped,' Dimmock repeated.

'How can I be whipped when we're not in a fucking relationship?'

'Oh, Gregory, there was _so_ much wrong with that question,' Dimmock smiled. 'First, you are in a relationship with Mycroft Holmes; just because you're not _technically_ dating, doesn't mean what you're _doing_ isn't considered a type of relationship.

'Second, I'm pretty sure there's a fair amount of _fucking_ involved in said relationship; so yes, it _is_ a "fucking relationship", isn't it?'

Greg scowled but Dimmock wasn't done.

'Third, Gregory, you are so fucking whipped it ain't funny,' Dimmock said. 'Mycroft hangs out in the library so you're going to the library at lunch instead of asking Mycroft to come hang with us. Mycroft wants to skive so you give him a lift on your bike. Mycroft wants to spend lunch snogging, so you'll snog. And _Mycroft_ is in charge of your _relationship_ , and you don't have a fucking problem with that.

'So,' Dimmock said, 'in conclusion; yes, you're in a relationship with Mycroft Holmes; yes, you're in a _fucking_ relationship with Mycroft Holmes; and _yes_ , you are fucking whipped.' He finished up by making another whipping noise and Greg tried to hit him, only for Dimmock to laugh and jump away.

'Fuck you, you fucking giant fucking prick!' Greg snarled.

Dimmock just grinned; he knew Greg was really angry when the other teen started saying "fuck" between every second word.

'I am _not_ fucking whipped, got that?' Greg shouted as he continued to try and hit Dimmock.

'Waah-cchh!' Dimmock retorted, now making whipping motions with his hands.

'Would you fuck off!' Greg shouted.

'You're the one chasing me!' Dimmock shouted back.

Greg scowled and turned his back on his best friend, digging for his cigarettes and lighting one angrily. Dimmock chuckled as he took a step closer, though kept a good distance between himself and Greg.

'Come on, Greg, I'm joking,' Dimmock said. _Not really_ , he thought. 'You're not whipped.' _You totally are_. 'I'm sorry.' _No I'm not._

Greg turned to look at him, dark brown eyes narrowed. 'We're _not_ in a relationship.'

'Oh, you definitely are,' Dimmock said, grinning when Greg's scowl darkened. 'I'm sorry, mate, but you really are. You might not be boyfriends, but you're definitely in a relationship with Mycroft Holmes.'

'I'm not!' Greg shouted, getting frustrated. Dimmock was _really_ starting to piss him off. 'I've known the real Mycroft all of a fucking week, Dimmo, you can't fall for someone that quickly!'

'Why not?' Dimmock asked.

Greg frowned. 'What do you mean, "why not"?'

'I mean what I said; why not? Why can't you fall for someone in a week?'

'It's... 'cause it's _one_ week,' Greg said.

'Yeah, but you've known Mycroft for two years,' Dimmock reminded him. 'Finding out about the partying side doesn't change that fact, Greg. You've known Mycroft two years, not a week.'

Greg's frown deepened. 'Yeah, but-'

'Greg, _come on_ ,' Dimmock cut in. 'Yeah, you were a bit of a prick to him, but if you'd hated him, and I mean _absolutely_ hated him with every fucking fibre of your being, you wouldn't be snogging him now. Finding out that you have a lot in common with someone doesn't change everything.'

'Exactly,' Greg said. 'It _doesn't_ change everything, and it doesn't change how I feel about him. I don't _like_ him and we're _not_ in a relationship. I've just suddenly realised how fucking good-looking he is.'

Dimmock snorted. 'You're so in denial, it isn't funny.'

'I'm seriously re-considering our friendship.'

'Oh come on, don't be a girl.'

'Fuck you,' Greg snarled.

Dimmock just chuckled. 'Fine, fine; I'll stop, happy?'

'Fucking thrilled,' Greg scowled, puffing on his cigarette angrily and blowing smoke in Dimmock's face.

' _Waah-chh_ ,' Dimmock murmured.

Greg kicked him.


	14. Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver

Greg and Mycroft only had one class together; English Lit. Thankfully Dimmock wasn't in it. He'd been grinning at Greg all morning and making soft whipping noises, making Greg re-consider the whole "murder is bad" idea he'd had all his life.

There were double desks on each side of the classroom in rows of three, with two sets of double desks joined together in the middle, also in a row of three. Greg usually sat in the far right hand corner, with Mycroft taking a seat at the front in the middle of the class.

As usual Greg walked in just after the bell had gone and threw Mr Jambrook a charming smile that made the teacher scowl. Greg's eyes darted over the room and he had to hold back a grin when he saw that Mycroft was sitting up the back.

Greg sat on the end of his usual desk, away from the wall so he was closer to Mycroft, who was at the end of his desk. Mycroft's blue eyes flicked to Greg and for a brief second he smiled before looking back at the front of the class.

Greg tried to catch Mycroft's eyes again but the other boy was pointedly listening to Mr Jambrook drone on and on about... whatever it was he taught. Greg sat his right elbow on the desk, hand pressed to his face, and took to staring at Mycroft; his handsome face, long, delicious-looking neck, the delicate way he wrote in his notebook, the long legs hidden beneath his desk-

'Greg!'

Greg blinked and tore his eyes away from Mycroft to see Mr Jambrook staring at him. 'Huh?'

'Are you listening?' Jambrook asked.

'No,' Greg shook his head, 'no, I was staring at Mycroft.'

Mycroft's eyes jumped to his and Greg grinned as everyone else in the class turned to stare at him.

Jambrook frowned. 'Do you find Mycroft more interesting than this lesson?'

'Well... how can you really compare the two?' Greg asked. 'I mean, Mycroft's a human-being; you know, one of God's greatest creations. And this is just an English Lit class; not that class isn't important, but the Bible _does_ say-'

'Yes, Gregory, I get it,' Jambrook sighed, rubbing his face. 'How about you pay attention?'

'To you or Mycroft?' Greg asked.

Various people snickered and Mycroft stared at his notebook, a flush creeping up his neck.

'To me,' Jambrook seethed.

'Can do, Mr Jambrook, sir,' Greg said, saluting with two fingers.

Jambrook scowled at him as Greg sat straight, flipping his notebook open when the teacher started writing on the white-board. Greg glanced at Mycroft, the other boy taking notes, and quickly tore out a piece of paper, writing on it quickly.

 

**Whatchya doin'?**

 

He folded it in half and waited until Jambrook was facing the board to lean across the aisle and slide the note over Mycroft's book. Mycroft blinked down at it and glanced at Greg before flipping it open.

A small smile curled at his lips and Mycroft wrote back, handing the note to Greg.

 

_Drugs. You?_

 

Greg snorted and covered it with a cough when Jambrook glared at him. Mycroft's writing was neat and looping. _Very elegant_ , Greg thought. Unlike his own scratchy scrawl.

 

**Nothin'. I'm BORED.**

 

He passed the note back to Mycroft, who read it with a small smile before scribbling something down.

 

_Passing notes in class? How very high school girl of you, Gregory._

 

Greg scowled at him as he wrote back.

 

**Nah-ah. Shut up.**

 

_What are you going to do about it?_

 

Greg smiled and Mycroft smirked while copying down Mr Jambrook's notes.

 

**Mycroft, I. Am. BORED!!!**

 

_Do you know what's interesting?_

 

Greg raised an eyebrow as he wrote back.

 

**No, what?**

 

_School work._

 

Greg poked his tongue out and Mycroft smiled.

 

**Is not. What are you, insane?**

 

_Perhaps, I haven't been tested._

 

**Well you should be- Sherlock too.**

 

_Ah, you haven't seen a dentist try to pull a tooth, have you? I fear for any doctor who tries to run experiments on my little brother._

 

Greg giggled at the image of a doctor trying to hold down a shrieking, spitting, and most likely biting Sherlock Holmes.

 

**Anyway- I'm bored.**

 

_So you've said._

 

**Let's do something.**

 

_Like...?_

 

**... WE SHOULD WRITE DIRTY NOTES TO EACH OTHER!!!**

 

Greg watched as Mycroft read the note, one rust-coloured eyebrow rising delicately.

 

_I am not writing dirty notes to you._

 

**Why not?**

 

_Because._

 

**Come on... remember my tongue?**

 

_Gregory, stop it._

 

**And my lips? My fingers...**

 

_I'm warning you, Gregory!_

 

Greg grinned as he scribbled another note, leaning across to hand it to Mycroft. Mycroft ignored him and Greg moved closer before pushing the note between Mycroft's folded arms, the other teenager sighing.

 

**Remember how good it felt to fuck my mouth, Mycroft? Do you? My warm, wet tongue rolling over your skin? My hand closing around your cock- which is pretty big, FYI.**

 

Greg watched colour darken Mycroft's cheeks as the other teen shifted about in his plastic seat.

A few people had noticed them passing notes and they got a few raised eyebrows, but Greg ignored them as Mycroft hastily wrote back, sliding the paper across Greg's desk.

 

_Go on..._

 

Greg grinned and scribbled back.

 

**God, it was amazing. I swear, you're so fucking thick it ain't funny. And the way you moaned and groaned, thrusting into my mouth. Fuck, I definitely need to taste your cock again.**

 

Mycroft was definitely blushing now and shifted his legs apart as his pen scribbled across the paper.

 

_Well, perhaps I'll just have to give you a much more thorough taste, won't I?_

 

Greg licked his lips at the image of Mycroft fucking his mouth again. Aware that Mycroft's darkened blue eyes were staring at him, Greg hastily wrote back.

 

**Come on, you gotta write dirty stuff back. Like how you grabbed me at that party- fuck was that hot. I still remember your tongue fucking my mouth, and your perfect, soft hand wrapped around my cock.**

 

Mycroft smirked down at the paper.

 

_No, no, Gregory dear. You have to earn that. Keep writing and I'll write back something so filthy you'll come in your trousers._

 

Greg nearly moaned at that. How could Mycroft come off as sexy and teasing in a fucking letter? Greg's trousers were feeling a bit too tight and he suddenly wondered if this had been such a good idea.

 

**Come on, Mikey! I can't work with no encouragement!**

 

Greg had just passed the note back to Mycroft when Mr Jambrook suddenly appeared. He swiped it from Mycroft's fingers, the red-head's eyes widening and Greg making a lunge for it.

'No!'

'Passing notes in class?' Jambrook mused.

'No, it's just... um... I was asking Mycroft a question!' Greg said as Mycroft blushed darkly.

'Maybe I should read this out to the class, hmm?' Jambrook said.

Suddenly a grin tugged at Greg's lips and he whistled. 'Er, I wouldn't do that if I were you.'

'And why not?' the teacher asked.

'Well... parents get upset when you read stuff like that to their kids,' Greg said, nodding at the note. 'But by all means, read it out loud, I don't care.'

He shrugged and leaned back, linking his fingers behind his head and grinning toothily. Mycroft was staring pointedly at his notebook while the class looked from Greg to Mr Jambrook.

Finally Jambrook flipped the paper open, brown eyes shifting down to read. Greg watched as his face went from annoyed, to surprised, to bright red in the space of thirty seconds.

Greg couldn't hold his giggles in and stuttered, 'G-Gonna read it out-out loud, s-sir?'

'No... no, I don't think I will,' Jambrook said, swallowing thickly.

'Aww, come on, everyone's curious!' Greg said.

The class was staring from Greg to Mr Jambrook, wondering just what the hell was written on the piece of paper.

'Gregory, get out, now!' Jambrook snapped suddenly.

'But-'

'Out!'

'What about Mycroft?' Greg demanded. 'He wrote on it too!'

Mycroft glared at Greg, who winked at him, as Jambrook said, 'Get your stuff and get out, Lestrade, right now!'

'Alright, keep your shirt on,' Greg said, grabbing his backpack and sweeping all his stuff in. He glanced at Mycroft before saying, 'Can I leave a note with Mycroft, sir? Just a quick one.'

The class was giggling and snickering by now and Jambrook stalked down the aisle, stuffing the note into his pocket and grabbing Greg's sleeve.

'What, you keeping the note for later?' Greg asked as he was dragged towards the door. 'Never knew you were into that, sir!'

'Shut it, Lestrade!' Jambrook snarled.

'Oi, lemme go!' Greg shouted, flapping his arms dramatically. 'Stranger danger, STRANGER DANGER!'

He was pushed outside, the class laughing loudly, and Jambrook said, 'All of you, stay here, not a word!'

The students watched as Jambrook shouted at Greg, who was bouncing around and rubbing his arm while grinning and laughing. Finally they disappeared and the entire class turned as one to look at Mycroft.

'What was on that note?' Sally Donovan demanded, twisting in her seat to look at Mycroft.

'Nothing of importance,' Mycroft shrugged.

'Why were you passing notes to Lestrade?' someone else asked.

Mycroft shrugged again and ignored all their questions while doodling in the corner of his notebook. When Jambrook finally came back he was alone and glared at Mycroft before getting the class back on track.

Mycroft sighed and leaned back, wondering what Greg was doing.


	15. Attention, Attention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver
> 
> Author's Note: So, I came third in the fuckyeahmystradefanfic challange over on Tumblr. (Remember, the competition this story was written for?) So, I'm pretty happy now, 'cause third is awesome, and... yeah.
> 
> Anywho, 'cause I'm in a good mood, I thought I'd update another chapter, despite it being 5:30am here in good old Sydney, Australia.
> 
> So, enjoy!
> 
> {Dreamer}

The library was mostly quiet. A few students were dotted about reading, some chatting to their friends, and most doing their work. The two librarians alternated between re-stacking books or sitting behind the front desk.

Greg dropped into the seat opposite Mycroft, making the taller teen look up from his homework and raise an eyebrow.

'Detention after school for the rest of the week and I have to formally apologise to Mr Jambrook while _also_ having a conversation with the school counsellor about safe sex and STIs,' Greg announced.

Mycroft chuckled.

'It ain't funny,' Greg huffed. 'You wrote the fucking note too but are _you_ in trouble? _Noo_...'

'I'm Mycroft Holmes,' Mycroft smirked, 'I don't get into trouble.'

Greg scowled at him. 'Well they probably think I'm trying to corrupt you, so expect a call from the counsellor warning you about my dark desires.'

'I quite like your dark desires,' Mycroft said.

Greg felt something touch his leg before sliding up, and raised both eyebrows. 'Mycroft Holmes, is that your foot?'

'Maybe,' Mycroft smiled.

'Hmm, I think I should talk to the counsellor about _you_ corrupting _me_ ,' Greg said.

He swallowed thickly when Mycroft's foot moved slightly higher, rubbing up his thigh.

'Oh, Gregory; like anyone will believe that _I'm_ corrupting _you_ ,' Mycroft chuckled.

'I can see how your public persona works in your favour,' Greg mumbled, mostly focused on Mycroft's foot.

Mycroft smiled. 'I always plan ahead.'

'Everyone thinks you're this posh, perfect student,' Greg said, 'when really you're a dirty little boy.'

'There is _nothing_ little about me, Gregory Lestrade,' Mycroft retorted.

'I dunno, I might have to look a bit more before making up my mind,' Greg grinned. Mycroft's foot moved away and Greg actually whined, making the auburn-haired teen chuckle. Greg pouted and pulled himself closer to the table, resting his arms against the cold top. 'So whatchya doin'?' Greg asked.

'Homework,' Mycroft answered.

'What homework?'

'Politics, English Literature and Chemistry now,' Mycroft murmured, pen scratching across his notebook, 'Triple Science, French, and Biology tonight.'

Greg blinked at him. 'You just described, like, a week's worth of homework.'

Mycroft smiled, not looking up from his notebook. 'Do you actually do homework, Gregory?'

'Um... yeah, most of the time,' Greg said, scratching at his cheek. Mycroft raised an eyebrow and he added, 'Er... sometimes. I don't if I can get away with it.'

Mycroft chuckled.

'Why do you do Triple Science, what's the matter with you?' Greg demanded. 'You do realise that that's, like, _triple_ Science.'

'Yes, well the name of the class was a giveaway,' Mycroft said.

'You're insane.'

'No, I'm just smart and like a challenge,' Mycroft corrected.

'All the brilliant ones are insane, it's a known fact,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft smirked.

'Mycroft, this is boring,' Greg groaned.

'I'm trying to work, Gregory.'

'But-'

'How about we play "Who can be quiet the longest"?' Mycroft suggested. 'I'll give you a treat if you manage over a minute.'

Greg grinned at the word _treat_ and sat straight, eyes on Mycroft, lips pressed together.

'Come on, this is boring,' Greg groaned about four seconds later.

'I'm doing my homework now so I don't have to do it tonight,' Mycroft smiled. 'I'll finish it about half-an-hour after I get home and be free for the next few nights.'

'But I'm _boorreed_ ,' Greg groaned, sprawling sideways across the desk, head resting on his arm. 'Let's go make out.'

'No.'

'Come _oonn_.'

'No.'

'Mycroft-'

'No.'

'Myc-'

'No.'

'Bastard!' Greg shouted, making Mycroft scowl at him and the other students across the room look their way. 'Sorry, sorry,' Greg muttered. 'So, no making out?'

'I'm doing my homework.'

'You are _so_ gay,' Greg groaned, flopping back onto the table.

'While you're here _you_ could do _your_ homework,' Mycroft suggested.

Greg stared at him like he was an idiot.

Mycroft put his pen down and looked at Greg properly. 'Gregory, you can either sit here and stare at me doing my homework, go and hang out with your friends, or chat to me while we both do our homework. The latter offers sneaky kisses, hands on thighs, and the occasional foot against your cock.'

Well, Greg's choice was clear, wasn't it?

He still groaned though as he pulled his bag off and unzipped it, grabbing his pencil case, a notebook, and the first textbook he found. He dumped it all on the table and looked at Mycroft with a scowl.

Mycroft quickly sat up, leaning across the table, and pressed his lips against Greg's. Greg gasped but kissed back, quickly trying to thread his fingers through Mycroft's hair and tug him closer.

But Mycroft slapped his hand away and pulled back, Greg whining. 'No touching,' Mycroft smiled.

'I hate you,' Greg pouted, flipping his notebook open. He looked down at the work while quickly checking his textbook. 'I don't have my PE book,' Greg groaned.

'Just write in that one,' Mycroft said.

'You're a cocktease, you know that?' Greg grumbled.

Mycroft just smiled.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg had texted Dimmock about his detention and his three friends waited around until he was let go at five. He met up with Dylan, Joe and Dimmock in the carpark. Dimmock was texting Molly- he always got that stupid smile on his face when he was talking to his girlfriend- but still smirked when Dylan asked, 'So where the hell have you been all day?'

'Humping your mum's bed,' Greg retorted.

'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?' Dylan demanded.

Greg smirked. 'It means I was fucking your mum's sheets; why, got a problem?'

Dylan grabbed Greg around the neck and they went stumbling off onto the grass, hitting and slapping each other before Greg ended up on the grass in a headlock.

'Ah, lemme go!' Greg shouted.

'Apologise for what you said, my mum's a saint,' Dylan said.

'She'd have to be,' Greg growled, 'I woulda smothered you at birth!'

'Now, now, Gregory, don't be rude,' Dylan grinned as Greg continued to fight him.

'Let me... fucking... alright, _sorry_!' Greg shouted.

Dylan smirked and let him go, Greg trying to kick him and getting a slap to the back of the head.

'Cunt,' Greg snarled as he stumbled to his feet, Joe and Dimmock both snickering.

'Now, boys, let's not be mean,' Dimmock said. Greg flipped him off.

'Where were you?' Joe asked, leaning against Dimmock's car and lighting a cigarette.

'Out shagging some random bloke,' Greg said.

'Bullshit,' Joe said. 'You look like you haven't been shagged in days.'

Greg scowled. While that was _technically_ true, he and Mycroft had got up to some other stuff. Joe and Dylan snickered and he said, 'Fuck off!'

'Poor Greggie; losing your ability to shag blokes?' Dylan asked.

'I'll fucking shag you,' Greg muttered.

'Ewe, no thanks, your cock probably has all kinds of nasty diseases,' Dylan wrinkled his nose.

'You can suck my cock, arsehole,' Greg said, grabbing himself and sticking his finger up.

Dylan poked his tongue out and Dimmock said, 'Well if someone was doing _that_ you wouldn't be such a shit right now, would you?'

'Don't test me, Dimmo,' Greg said, checking that his bag was done up before tugging his jacket on.

'Stop fighting, girls,' Joe said, grinning when both Greg and Dimmock glared at him. 'Anyway, fancy the movies tonight?'

'What's on?' Greg asked.

'Dunno,' Joe shrugged.

'I'm in, my little sister has a cold and she's sending me 'round the fucking bend,' Dylan said. 'If I have to bring her one more glass of fucking water I'll throw it at her.'

'Kayley would fuck you up before you got your arm back,' Joe snickered.

Greg and Dimmock chuckled at the pout on Dylan's face before the latter said, 'I'm game, but I gotta pick Molly up.'

'Oh, so just gonna dump us for your girlfriend?' Dylan demanded.

'Yeah, she's not a fuckwit like you lot,' Dimmock said.

Greg smiled and said, 'Yeah, fine, I'll come.'

'Meet outside the cinema in an hour?' Joe said.

The others all nodded and headed for their cars, while Greg tugged his helmet on and started his bike. He glanced over at Mycroft's Jaguar as he left, but there was no sign of the other boy.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg stopped by home to get changed into a pair of green jeans, a black AC/DC shirt, and Chucks. He rode to the shopping centre on the edge of town and parked his bike. Greg had just lit a cigarette when Dimmock's BMW pulled up beside him, the teenager getting out of the vehicle with Molly.

'Hi, Greg,' Molly smiled.

'And you're _still_ with this dickhead,' Greg sighed, wrapping an arm around Molly. 'Hello, sunshine.'

'Must you always be crude?' Molly asked, kissing his cheek.

'Part of my charm,' Greg winked.

'Anyway,' Dimmock cut in, wrapping an arm around Molly's waist, 'I heard that _someone_ got sent to the front office today.'

Greg wet his lips and looked away. 'Dunno what you're talking about.'

Dimmock grinned as Greg sucked back on his cigarette. 'Ah, come on, don't lie, Gregory.'

'I ain't lying.'

'Sure, sure,' Dimmock nodded, reaching into his pocket to look for his own cigarettes. 'So... who _did_ Mr Jambrook send to the office, then?'

'Dunno,' Greg shrugged. 'I was asleep on my desk.'

'You sure?'

'Absolutely.'

'Positive?'

'Yep.'

'So you _weren't_ passing notes to Mycroft Holmes in class?' Dimmock asked.

Greg tried to kick him but Dimmock bounced away, grinning as he lit a cigarette.

'I heard Mr Jambrook blushed three shades of fucking red when he read what you two'd written,' Dimmock continued, Greg glaring at him. 'So come on, tell us, just _what_ was on that note?'

'Nothing,' Greg said. 'I just asked Mycroft a question, alright?'

'Mycroft Holmes?' Molly asked.

'Oh my God, I forgot to tell you!' Dimmock shouted.

'Fuck off!' Greg snarled, trying to shut Dimmock up as Molly frowned at them in confusion.

'Molly, Molly, Greg has a fucking crush!' Dimmock shouted as Greg chased him through the carpark. Dimmock ducked behind a car and when Greg ran around it he slammed into him, sending Greg flying into a concrete pillar. Greg groaned and rubbed his leg as Dimmock ran to his girlfriend. 'Greg fancies Mycroft Holmes!'

' _What_?!' Molly practically shrieked.

'You... fucking... cunt,' Greg moaned, each word punctuated by a wince.

'It's true,' Dimmock grinned. 'Greg, _our_ Greg Lestrade, fancies Mycroft fucking Holmes.'

'I do _not_ fancy him!' Greg shouted.

'He _totally_ does,' Dimmock said, turning to Molly. 'They made out at a party about a week ago-'

'Dimmock, shut the fuck up!' Greg shouted, hobbling towards him.

'And then last weekend Mycroft gave Greg a hand job,' Dimmock continued, 'and _then_ they skived school and went off to do God knows fucking what, and then they were making out on my bed-'

Greg grabbed Dimmock around the neck and covered his mouth, hissing, 'Shut up now you fucking prick or I swear to God-'

He was cut off when Dimmock elbowed him in the gut. 'And then today at school I caught 'em snogging!' Dimmock said. 'And Eric Armstrong texted me saying Mr Jambrook kicked Greg out of his English Lit class for passing notes to Mycroft!'

'You wanker,' Greg moaned, rubbing his stomach.

'Oh my gosh,' Molly said, eyes bright and hands covering her mouth. 'You fancy Mycroft Holmes?'

'I don't!' Greg said. 'We just make out sometimes, okay? I don't fucking fancy him!'

'He does,' Dimmock said.

'Dimmo, I swear to all that is fucking holy, I will kill you!' Greg snarled.

Dimmock just grinned as Molly said, 'You and Mycroft _Holmes_?'

'Oh God,' Greg groaned.

'That is _so_ amazing,' Molly said, clapping her hands.

'Amazing?' Dimmock questioned.

'What?' was Greg's response.

'You two, I can picture it!' Molly continued. 'You just... you _fit_ , I can totally see it!'

'You should see 'em,' Dimmock grinned. 'They're _so_ adorable.'

'Dimmo-'

'You are!' Dimmock said. 'I dunno why you're denying it.'

'I'm denying it 'cause I _don't_ like him!' Greg shouted.

'What's goin' on?'

The three turned to see Dylan and Joe walking towards them, Dylan tapping away at his phone and Joe smoking.

Greg turned to hiss at Molly and Dimmock, 'Not a fucking word, got it?' Molly nodded quickly and Dimmock just smirked. 'Nothing,' Greg said when Dylan and Joe joined them. 'Dimmo was just being a prick.'

'He was not,' Molly smiled, kissing Dimmock's cheek and making his smile widen. 'What movie are we seeing?'

'Whatever, I don't care,' Joe shrugged.

'Me either,' Dylan said. 'You guys wanna see anything in particular?'

The others all shrugged and decided to figure it out when they got there. Greg scowled at Dimmock as they walked, the latter snickering and making kissing noises.

 

{oOo}

 

They settled on an action movie and Greg and Molly were sent to get food. Molly kept looking at Greg sideways, Greg ignoring her as best he could. When they were standing in line to pay for their snacks and drinks, Molly said, 'So... Mycroft Holmes, huh?'

Greg sighed. 'Dimmo was joking, okay?'

'So you didn't kiss him at a party, give him a hand job, and snog him on Michael's bed?' Molly asked. Greg chewed on his bottom lip. 'And you didn't skip school and-'

'Yes, okay, we did all that,' Greg said. 'But I don't fancy him.'

'Mm,' Molly nodded. 'You sure about that?'

'Yes,' Greg growled.

'Positive?'

'Yes.'

'Absolutely-'

' _Yes_!' Greg snapped. Molly grinned. 'You're spending way too much time with Dimmock.'

'Nah I'm not,' Molly smiled. 'Greg, there's nothing wrong with fancying someone.'

'I know that,' Greg said. 'But I _don't_ fancy Mycroft.'

'So why are you spending all your time with him?' Molly asked.

Greg raised an eyebrow. 'You _have_ met me, haven't you?'

Molly rolled her eyes and said, 'Yes, Gregory, I know all about your reputation. But you _can_ fall in love with a guy, you know.'

'I know, I know,' Greg muttered.

'I'm curious as to _why_ you're doing all of this with Mycroft Holmes,' Molly said. 'I thought you two hated each other.'

'We did- I mean, _I_ did... I mean...' Greg trailed off, brow furrowing. 'He's not the person I thought he was.'

'Oh?'

'He... well, there's more to him,' Greg admitted. 'He dresses in black and tight jeans; he smokes and listens to the same music I do; _and_ he's got a reputation to rival my own.'

'He does?'

Greg nodded. 'I thought he was some stuck-up snob, ya know?' Molly nodded along. 'But he's not,' Greg continued, 'he's... awesome, really.'

'Awesome?'

'Yeah,' Greg smiled, playing with one of the packets of crisps he was holding. 'He's funny, and charming, and... we just get along real well.' Molly smiled. 'We have a lot in common and I have fun with him, a _lot_ of fun, and... not just when we're making out.'

'So you get along?'

'Yeah,' Greg repeated. 'It's weird, but... he's really cool.'

Molly's smile widened but she didn't say any more on the matter, leaving Greg to think about Mycroft. They paid and headed through the mall, passing through throngs of shoppers and teenagers stuffing around.

They headed back outside and around the building before re-entering the movie theatre. Greg and Molly were just about to take the escalator when Greg stopped.

'Greg?' Molly questioned. She followed his train of sight and spotted Mycroft and Sherlock Holmes as well as John Watson, the three heading towards them.

Mycroft smiled when he saw Greg and Greg grinned as he looked the other teenager over. Mycroft was wearing tight black jeans with two silver chains dangling from the right pocket, a dark red and black flannelette shirt with the top three buttons undone, and black high-top Chucks. His hair was a ginger-brown mess but his face was clear of make-up.

He still looked damn shaggable and Greg's eyes swept over him slowly, taking in each and every inch. When Molly giggled beside him Greg blushed darkly and tried to stop staring.

'Gregory,' Mycroft said, eyes running over Greg in much the same way Greg had been doing only seconds earlier.

'Hi,' Greg responded.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and John looked at him.

'What are you doing here?' Greg asked, trying to get his head back and ignore Sherlock's knowing look.

'Seeing a movie, obviously,' Sherlock tisked. 'What are you, an idiot?'

'Sherlock,' Mycroft scowled. Sherlock poked his tongue out and John giggled as Mycroft turned back to Greg and Molly. 'I don't believe we've met,' Mycroft said to Molly. 'Mycroft Holmes.'

'Molly Hooper,' Molly smiled, 'I've heard _all_ about you.'

Mycroft inclined an eyebrow and Greg quickly said, 'She's Dimmock's girlfriend.'

'I see,' Mycroft mused. 'This is my brother, Sherlock, and his friend, John Watson.' The younger Holmes scowled at his brother, but John was smiling.

'Hello,' John said politely.

'Nice to meet you Sherlock, John,' Molly said brightly.

Sherlock glared at her and stomped up the escalator, John following behind him. Molly got on next and glanced back as Greg and Mycroft stood beside each other.

'So...' Greg mumbled.

'I was roped into taking my brother and John to the movies,' Mycroft sighed. 'Not the way I want to spend my afternoon.' His blue eyes roamed over Greg's face. 'But it _is_ starting to look up.'

Greg blushed and ran a hand through his hair. 'Yeah, well... um...'

'You have a real way with words, did you know that?' Mycroft teased.

'Shut up,' Greg said and nudged him, Mycroft chuckling. Molly's face was practically cracking with the smile she was sporting and when she stepped off the escalator she bounced over to Dimmock, Joe and Dylan.

She whispered in Dimmock's ear and a grin broke out across his face. Greg scowled at him and turned back to Mycroft.

'So... erm... enjoy your movie.'

'I'll try,' Mycroft said, looking to where Sherlock was playing with the icey machine. 'Though I fear I'll kill someone by the end of the day.'

'I don't think anyone would blame you,' Greg smiled.

Mycroft smiled back and went to grab his brother and John while Greg watched him go. He started when Dimmock slid up beside him and said, 'How's your boyfriend?'

'Shut up,' Greg snarled, shoving the bags of food into Dimmock's hands.

Dimmock snickered and divided the food between his backpack, Joe's, and Dylan's. Once done the five headed towards cinema 4, Greg glancing over his shoulder. Mycroft was waiting in line to buy tickets, Sherlock whispering in John's ear and pointing at people.

Mycroft caught Greg's eyes and smiled, Greg grinning back as he disappeared down the corridor.


	16. Taking Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver

Joe and Dylan immediately took the seats at the back in the far right-hand corner. They pushed and shoved each other until Joe thumped Dylan in the thigh, the blonde groaning and slouching in the seat beside him.

Dimmock sat in the row in front of them, his arm wrapped around Molly. Greg flopped onto the seat beside Dylan and ripped open a packet of popcorn, shoving some kernels into his mouth.

They passed the food around, crisps, popcorn, chocolate and lollies flying through the air as the previews flashed across the screen. Greg nicked Dimmock's lemonade and poked his tongue out, Dimmock scowling at the lump of chewed-up food on show.

'You dick,' Dimmock said, throwing a chocolate bar at him.

'Mm, Mars Bar,' Greg grinned. He ripped the wrapper open and took a large bite, humming and rubbing his stomach.

Dimmock rolled his eyes and Molly kissed him on the cheek while Joe and Dylan fought over the Aeros.

'Hey, have you got the Crunchies?' Greg asked, leaning over the seats. Molly nodded and went through her boyfriend's bag before passing Greg one of the honeycomb chocolates. 'Mm, yummy.'

'You'll end up sick,' Molly said as Greg polished off his Mars Bar and immediately tore open the Crunchie.

Greg just poked his tongue out and slurped his lemonade.

Greg had just finished off his Crunchie when he spotted a familiar head of ginger-brown hair walking into the cinema. He smiled stupidly as Mycroft grabbed Sherlock, who'd been trying to run up the aisle.

He hissed in his little brother's ear and Sherlock scowled before being let go. The younger Holmes stomped up the aisle with John and threw himself into a seat at the end of the row Molly and Dimmock were sitting in. John sat beside him and Mycroft took the seat at the end.

Greg couldn't stop staring at Mycroft- and had the feeling Mycroft knew he was looking. He didn't care, though, he just sat in his seat playing with his drink, brown eyes glancing between the screen and Mycroft.

Molly and Dimmock were snickering (not that Greg noticed) and kept whispering to each other over Greg's behaviour.

Suddenly Mycroft stood and walked over to Sherlock and John, saying something to the two younger kids that made Sherlock flap his hands about. Mycroft scowled, looked up at Greg, and turned, walking down the aisle and disappearing.

Greg stood quickly and Dimmock said, 'Where you goin'?'

'Um... cigarette,' Greg said before practically running down the row, Dimmock snickering.

'So whatchya think?' he asked his girlfriend.

'Oh, Greg _totally_ fancies Mycroft,' Molly nodded.

Dimmock grinned in triumph.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg walked down the brightly-lit corridor, looking around and wondering where Mycroft had gone. He'd just reached the toilets when Mycroft appeared, dragging him into the tiled room and pushing him against the wall.

'This is becoming a habit,' Greg said as Mycroft wound an arm around his waist.

Mycroft chuckled. 'So stop following me.'

'Stop looking fuckable,' Greg retorted.

Mycroft smiled and Greg closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against Mycroft's. Mycroft let out a soft sound of surprise before he was kissing back, lips gently melding against Greg's own.

Greg decided to take control of the kiss- even if Mycroft _did_ have him pinned to a wall- and threaded one hand through Mycroft's ginger-brown hair, his other hand grabbing the taller boy's hips.

Mycroft tensed for a second before relaxing, giving over control and letting Greg lead. Greg grinned and grabbed Mycroft, turning him roughly and forcing him against the wall.

Mycroft let out a huff of surprise and they broke apart, Greg snickering.

'Don't think I'll let you do this often,' Mycroft growled.

'I don't care,' Greg said, forcing their mouths back together.

Mycroft moaned and Greg grinned before focusing on snogging the crap out of Mycroft Holmes. He let the gentle, teasing kissing continue for a minute before poking his tongue out and licking at Mycroft's bottom lip.

The taller boy's mouth opened slowly and Greg's tongue slid in, licking lazy strokes against Mycroft's teeth and gums before twisting and stroking against Mycroft's tongue, flicking against the piercing he kept hidden so well.

Greg ran his fingers through Mycroft's hair as he slowly and thoroughly explored his mouth, his free hand gripping Mycroft's hip, fingers digging in every so often.

Mycroft moaned softly when Greg tilted his head, starting a new kiss and attacking Mycroft's mouth from the other side. Mycroft's hands had started on Greg's shoulders but were slowly moving, one running over Greg's muscled back, the other down his side and to his hip.

When he felt that Mycroft was getting a bit too controlling, Greg shoved himself forward, pushing the taller teenager hard against the wall and making him gasp. Greg ripped his lips away from Mycroft's to bite and lick his neck, Mycroft groaning above him and gripping onto Greg tightly.

He sank his teeth into Mycroft's perfect, pale neck before pulling back, tongue licking over the soft red marks, his lips ghosting up to his jaw. He licked and nibbled his way to Mycroft's ear before licking the shell, breathing heavily against his ear. Greg felt Mycroft shudder against him and smirked as he nipped and tugged on Mycroft's ear, dragging the soft lobe between his teeth before licking it.

Mycroft grabbed Greg's face and wrenched him back up, their lips crushing together, both moaning loudly. The hand on Mycroft's hip tightened as Greg dragged him forward, pushing their crotches together.

'Greg,' Mycroft grunted against his lips, Greg groaning in response. Mycroft shifted a bit against the wall until their crotches were pressed together, and moaned loudly when Greg grinded against him.

Greg had been half-hard since Mycroft had forced him against the wall, and blood raged to his groin as he and Mycroft rutted against each other. Mycroft wrapped both arms around Greg's neck and pulled him closer, trying to crush the non-existent gap between them. Greg wound his left arm around Mycroft's waist, his right pressing to the cold wall as he attacked Mycroft's lips.

They licked into each other's mouths, tongues exploring, dancing together, licking and rolling and flicking. Their teeth clacked every time they changed direction, not that either cared, and hot breath was shared as they panted, trying to suck in oxygen without breaking apart.

Once again Mycroft tried to take control, hands dragging Greg forward and lips becoming possessive. Greg growled and ripped Mycroft's hands away, forcing them above his head and wrapping his fingers around the taller boy's wrists.

Mycroft gasped, blue eyes dark as they flicked open and rested on Greg's own lust-filled ones.

'No, no, _no_ ,' Greg whispered huskily, nuzzling Mycroft's neck and making him moan softly. ' _I'm_ in charge here, Mr Holmes,' Greg said, tongue darting out to lick Mycroft's over-heated skin. 'Just relax and enjoy it.'

'Greg-'

Greg darted forward, nipping and sucking on Mycroft's already swollen lips, leaving the skin bright red and glistening in the artificial light. He dragged the bottom one between his teeth, tongue licking over the swollen flesh and making Mycroft whimper loudly. Greg did the same with Mycroft's top lip before drawing back slowly, eyes roaming over Mycroft's flushed face.

He crushed their mouths back together, forcing his tongue into Mycroft's mouth. He pushed Mycroft's tongue back, the auburn-haired teen whimpering as his mouth was plundered. Greg stuck his tongue into each and every corner of Mycroft's mouth, licking broad strokes, tangling with Mycroft's tongue and dominating.

He thrust his body against Mycroft's, using his weight to keep the younger teen pinned to the cold wall. Mycroft tried to push his hips forward but Greg kept him down, Mycroft whimpering, moaning, and generally making dirty noises as Greg sucked on his tongue.

Greg was beginning to feel light-headed, his thoughts jumbled and body thrumming with lust. He could feel Mycroft's erection pressing against his own and moaned, shifting his hips to better fit them together.

Mycroft was completely at Greg's mercy but had stopped fighting. His body was hard and hot against the older boy's, hips pressed back and forth with every shift of Greg's body, his head tilted whatever way Greg wanted it to go. His chest was heaving with each shared breath, arms beginning to ache as they were held tightly against the wall.

Greg tore away from him when the need for air became too great. They both panted heavily and Greg groaned as his eyes once again washed over Mycroft. He pressed his face into the younger boy's neck, lips running over his skin, tongue darting out and teeth nipping.

'F-Fuck, Greg,' Mycroft grunted, head tipped back against the wall.

'You have _no_ idea how fucking sexy you are,' Greg hissed, teeth digging into Mycroft's neck. 'God, Mycroft, what I wanna do to you.'

Mycroft moaned.

'When you let me I'm gonna fuck you so bloody hard,' Greg growled. 'You'd hate that, wouldn't you? Me fucking you, owning you, absolutely fucking _wrecking_ you.'

Mycroft moaned again, much louder this time, and Greg grinned as he resurfaced.

'Or would you?' he asked. 'Maybe you secretly want that, huh? Want to be someone else's fuck toy?'

Mycroft's eyes widened slightly, fresh pleasure rolling across his body. Greg pressed their trapped erections together and Mycroft bucked against the wall and Greg, but was held in place.

Greg chuckled softly. 'I know you, Mycroft Holmes,' he whispered, lips ghosting over Mycroft's ear. 'I know what you want.'

He wrapped one hand around Mycroft's wrists, letting his other trail down the taller teenager's face and neck. Mycroft shuddered violently and Greg kept going, fingers digging into Mycroft's ribs, his hip, before reaching around to grab his arse.

'You want me to fuck you into the mattress, don't you?' Greg asked. 'Or maybe throw you over a table, huh?'

'Oh God,' Mycroft whimpered.

'Take you so hard and fast you can't fucking sit right for a week,' Greg continued, nuzzling Mycroft's neck. 'Fuck you over and over again until you're spent.'

He moved up to press a soft kiss to Mycroft's lips, the genius whimpering when he drew away. Mycroft's head darted forward, trying to get Greg's lips back and failing. He whined and Greg grinned, tongue darting across his lips.

'G-Greg...' Mycroft whimpered.

'Say that's what you want,' Greg whispered. 'Say it, Mycroft, and I'll kiss you.'

'P-Please...'

'Come on, you can do it,' Greg teased. 'You're _so_ good with words, Mycroft; tell me what you want.'

Mycroft was breathing heavily, pupils completely blown, face red and lips swollen and looking so goddamn kissable. He sucked in a lungful of air and Greg's tongue darted out, licking across his top lip.

'Say it,' Greg repeated.

'Please,' Mycroft moaned, 'just kiss me, Greg!'

'Say it.'

'I...' Mycroft inhaled again and Greg rutted his crotch forward, Mycroft moaning. 'Fuck, I want you!' Mycroft practically shouted.

'Want me to...?'

'F-Fuck me,' Mycroft moaned. 'Into a mattress, against a wall, anywhere! Just fucking kiss m-'

He was cut off when Greg lunged forward, crashing their mouths and bodies together. He let go of Mycroft's hands to tug on his hips, grinding against him shamelessly as they snogged.

Mycroft moaned loudly and fisted his hands in Greg's shirt, dragging him forward as close as he could. The bathroom was once again filled with the wet, sucking sounds of the two teenagers kissing furiously, each licking, sucking, and nipping at each other's lips and tongues.

They were so caught up in each other that neither noticed when the bathroom door to Greg's left opened, but they heard the shout of surprise.

'Fucking _hell_!'

Greg and Mycroft broke apart quickly, turning to see Dimmock staring at them with wide eyes. Greg groaned and buried his face in Mycroft's neck, breathing heavily as Mycroft panted above him.

'Do you two ever stop?' Dimmock asked once he'd got his head back (because god- _damn_ did those two look hot together). 'Or are you just gonna go at it in the bathroom?'

'We wouldn't have to stop if arseholes like you didn't interrupt us!' Greg scowled, voice muffled by Mycroft's neck.

Dimmock just smiled and walked past them to the urinals, using the one furthest away from them.

'M'sorry,' Greg mumbled.

'Not... not a problem,' Mycroft got out.

Greg smiled against him. 'So...'

'Shut up,' Mycroft muttered, Greg giggling and drawing back. They heard Dimmock wash his hands and head towards them. 'I'd better get back,' Mycroft said. 'Who knows what Sherlock and John are doing without me.'

'Oh, so those two bastards are with you?' Dimmock asked. Mycroft scowled at him and the shorter teen said, 'Erm... I mean, they're absolutely _delightful_ young men.'

Mycroft sighed. 'What are they doing?'

'Throwing crap at each other, shouting, and Sherlock Holmes is generally being... you know, _Sherlock Holmes_ ,' Dimmock said.

Mycroft sighed again and pushed off the wall, wincing and grabbing at his jeans. Dimmock pointedly looked elsewhere as Greg and Mycroft both rearranged themselves, trying to ignore how uncomfortably tight their jeans had become.

Mycroft glanced at Dimmock before quickly leaning forward and kissing Greg softly. 'I'll see you later.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, returning the kiss. Mycroft drew back reluctantly and smiled at him before pushing through the bathroom door and disappearing. 'Not a fucking word,' Greg scowled at his best friend.

'I didn't say anything!' Dimmock said.

Greg threw him a scowl and stormed from the room, Dimmock snickering behind him.


	17. Sassafras Roots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver
> 
> Chapter Title: Sassafras Roots by Green Day

Greg walked back to his seat, wincing every few steps as his erection pressed annoyingly against his zipper. Greg still didn't know _how_ Mycroft managed to turn him on so much. With every other bloke Greg had been with, there had to be actual skin-on-skin contact before Greg got really hard.

Well, Mycroft Holmes could get Greg raging with a small smile, or lips ghosting across his ear, and sometimes just darkened eyes locked onto him had Greg panting.

So you can imagine how hard Greg was after twenty minutes of serious tongue-fucking.

He flopped into his seat and Molly beamed brightly at him, Greg pointedly ignoring her. It got harder when Dimmock came back in, leaning over to whisper to his girlfriend, who giggled. Greg huffed and grabbed his drink, slurping back noisily as he stared at the screen.

Greg barely paid attention to the movie, preferring to stare at Mycroft Holmes, who was sitting beside Sherlock and John. Every so often Mycroft would stretch and roll his neck, blue eyes piercing the darkness and landing on Greg. Greg would blush and quickly avert his gaze, but he was pretty sure Mycroft was smirking at him.

When the movie finished Joe and Dylan hopped to their feet while Dimmock and Molly were busy snogging. Greg's eyes travelled over to Mycroft to see the other teenager still sitting in his seat, Sherlock and John giggling together beside him.

'Who's up for some food?' Joe asked.

'Mm,' Greg nodded, not listening.

'Oi, fuckers,' Dylan said, kicking the back of Dimmock's chair.

Dimmock pulled his lips away from Molly and said, 'What?'

Dylan smirked as Joe repeated, 'We gettin' food or what?'

'Nah, gotta take Molly home,' Dimmock said, kissing his girlfriend quickly before standing.

'What about you, Greg?' Joe asked.

Greg was still staring at Mycroft and Dylan punched his arm to get his attention, making Greg shout, 'Fucking _what_?'

'What's wrong with you?' Dylan demanded.

Greg blushed when he realised Dimmock and Molly were grinning at him knowingly, his other two mates staring at him in confusion.

'Um... nothin', just thinking.'

'Thinking?' Dylan asked.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Anyway, what's up?'

'We gettin' food?' Joe asked.

'Um...' Greg mumbled, turning to see that Mycroft had disappeared with his brother and John. 'No, I better get home.'

'Fuckers,' Joe groaned.

'See ya at school, then,' Dylan said. He and Joe walked ahead of them and quickly disappeared as Greg made sure he had his stuff.

He walked down the aisle with Molly and Dimmock behind him, the two giggling and whispering. Greg scowled until they got outside the theatre.

'What?' he demanded.

'You snogged Mycroft Holmes in the bathroom!' Molly stated, not beating around the bush.

'So?' Greg huffed.

'Oh, Gregory,' Molly sighed.

'What?' Greg demanded.

'You snogged Mycroft Holmes in the bathroom!' Molly repeated, like that explained everything.

'So what?' Greg said. 'I've snogged loads of blokes in bathrooms.'

Molly just continued to beam stupidly and Dimmock snickered at the scowl on Greg's face.

'You know what?' Greg finally snapped. 'To hell with both of you! Just fuck off and gossip about someone else!'

'Aw, come on, Greg!' Dimmock shouted after him.

'We were joking!' Molly called.

Greg ignored them both as he stormed away.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg was still in a foul mood when he got home and Maggie blinked. He'd left the house grinning stupidly and whistling and was now scowling and poking at his lamb. Maggie wondered if it had anything to do with his "friend" but decided to let it go when Greg glared at her and ignored her questions.

Maggie went to watch TV and Greg stomped to his room, shutting the door and scowling as he checked the time on his phone.

'Gregory!'

'FUCK!' Greg shouted, slamming into his wardrobe. Mycroft was standing at the window- now laughing stupidly at Greg's reaction- and Greg scowled. 'What the _fuck_ are you doing?'

'Standing... a-at... your win... window,' Mycroft choked out, still giggling.

The door to Greg's left opened and Mycroft ducked down as Maggie poked her head into the bedroom. 'Greg? What are you doing?'

'Sorry,' Greg said, panting heavily, 'just... saw a... somethin'...'

Maggie raised an eyebrow and Greg smiled weakly. 'Well, try not to deafen the neighbours, okay?'

'Sorry, Mum.'

Maggie nodded and disappeared back out the room, closing the door as she did. Greg breathed a sigh of relief as Mycroft popped back up.

' _Sorry, Mum _,' he mimicked, making Greg scowl.__

'Oh, sorry, who is it that calls their mum _Mummy_?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft just smirked and climbed through the window. He was wearing the same outfit as earlier; black jeans and a flannelette shirt. He dusted his knees down and stood tall.

'What are you doing here?' Greg asked, walking across to his desk. He grabbed his chair and jammed it under the doorknob, Mycroft raising an eyebrow when he was done. 'Mum just thinks I'm... ya know,' he gestured at his crotch and blushed, 'when I lock the door, and... um...'

Mycroft chuckled and flopped onto Greg's bed. 'Put some music on?'

Greg walked across to his CD player and switched it on while flipping through his CDs. 'What do you wanna listen to?' When Mycroft shrugged Greg put on a mixed CD of his favourite Green Day songs. He walked over to the bed and joined Mycroft, sitting beside him. 'So, what are you doin' here?'

'I was bored,' Mycroft murmured, eyes closed as he stretched- Greg's eyes roamed over his body slowly. 'I thought I'd see what our friendly neighbourhood boy slut was doing.'

Greg chuckled and nudged Mycroft. 'Shift over, I wanna lay down.'

'Why Gregory, you're so romantic,' Mycroft said as he shuffled over to the wall.

'Fuck off,' Greg said. He lay on the double mattress, Mycroft against the wall beside him. Greg felt a bit weird; he'd never had another boy in his bed... unless you counted Dimmock, Joe, or Dylan rolling all over it when they wanted to be pricks.

'What's wrong?' Mycroft asked.

Greg jolted. 'Um, nothin'.'

'Gregory-'

'No, nothing,' Greg shrugged.

'Don't lie to me,' Mycroft said, grabbing Greg's chin and making him turn. 'What's wrong?'

Greg bit his lips before saying, 'I've never had a guy in my bed before.' Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'Seriously,' Greg continued. 'I don't bring blokes home.'

'Never?'

'Not once,' Greg shook his head. 'I might be a fuck-up but my mum's an awesome person; I respect her house.'

'It's _your_ house too.'

Greg shrugged. 'I just don't do it.'

'Do you want me to leave?' Mycroft asked.

'What? No!' Mycroft smirked and Greg blushed. 'N-No, it's fine,' he said.

'Are you sure?'

Greg nodded. 'You're... different.'

'Am I?'

''Course you are.'

'Interesting,' Mycroft mused, flopping onto his back. The mattress moved slightly beneath Greg, who was picking at his nails to avoid looking at Mycroft. 'Did you enjoy the movie?' Mycroft asked suddenly.

Greg blushed when he remembered practically staring at Mycroft the entire time. 'Um... yeah, it was alright.'

'Really?' Mycroft asked, glancing at Greg, who nodded. 'What was your favourite part?'

'Um... the part where that guy snogged me in the bathroom?' Greg tried.

Mycroft smiled. 'That _was_ a rather good part, wasn't it?'

'The best,' Greg nodded.

Mycroft's smiled widened and he turned, lying on his side and propping his head up on his hand.

'What?' Greg asked.

'I'm not accustomed to people jumping me like that,' Mycroft admitted. Greg smirked. 'You're quite proud of yourself, aren't you?'

'Oh yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Surprising Mycroft Holmes, it's one of my better achievements.'

'Well it won't happen often,' Mycroft said, 'so don't get used to it.'

Greg smirked at him. 'Yeah it will, so be on the alert.'

'What, for boy sluts attacking me?'

'Nah, just this one,' Greg grinned. 'I could be around any corner, under any bed, lurking near a harmless looking keg. You'll go to get a drink and BAM, Gregory Lestrade, Boy Slut, pounces!'

Mycroft giggled, covering his face with a hand as Greg continued.

'It's a seemingly normal party. Teenage guys are looking for chicks to shag, mates are chatting on the sofa, and couples are snogging in dark corners. You walk through it all, just enjoying yourself, when you feel odd, like someone's watching you.'

'Stop it,' Mycroft snickered.

'You turn around,' Greg continued over the top of him, 'but there's no one there. You tell yourself you're just being stupid and continue on, unaware of the dangerous, smouldering eyes following you through the room.'

'Gregory, stop it!' Mycroft tried again, shifting so half his body was laying on Greg's.

'You reach the kitchen, where there's an array of alcohol!' Greg said, struggling as Mycroft tried to press a hand over his mouth. 'You pick one up, take a sip or two, and then... BOY SLUT ATTACKS!'

Mycroft pressed his lips against Greg's, and unlike usual Greg pulled away.

'Lips descend on your own, you feel hot and bothered, and Boy Slut drags you outside!'

Mycroft tried to kiss him again, and again Greg wriggled away.

'You're suddenly in the cold, dark night, and Boy Slut's all over you,' Greg grinned as Mycroft giggled atop him. 'He's got his hands down your trousers, cupping a firm, perfect arse, and a long, thick cock.'

Mycroft let out a breath of air, body shifting further onto Greg's.

'He wraps warm fingers around your cock,' Greg continued, eyes resting on Mycroft's smouldering blue ones. 'He pulls and tugs as he pushes his lips against yours.'

Mycroft swallowed thickly, eyes dropping to Greg's lips. Greg's tongue darted out, moistening the bottom one, and Mycroft leaned down, kissing him gently.

'He takes your... b-breath away,' Greg mumbled as Mycroft kissed him again. 'And.. and you lose your... h-head...' He wrapped a hand around Mycroft's neck, pulling him down.

Mycroft deepened the kiss, threading his fingers through Greg's hair, his other hand splayed against Greg's warm, firm chest. Greg groaned as his head was tilted, wrapping an arm around Mycroft's waist and tugging.

Mycroft wriggled atop Greg until their crotches came into contact, both letting out a soft moan. Their legs tangled together as their tongues did the same, Mycroft's piercing rubbing against Greg's tastebuds and making the older boy shiver.

No one led this kiss; it was just the two of them enjoying the act, their tongues wrapping around each other, bodies so hot and very hard against the other. Greg arched under Mycroft and Mycroft pushed down, grinding against him and sending pleasure rolling through Greg's body.

Mycroft pulled back briefly to tilt his head, starting a new kiss that made Greg moan embarrassingly loudly. The sound was swallowed by Mycroft's warm, wet mouth as his tongue licked the inside of Greg's, exploring every inch and making Greg whimper.

He tugged Mycroft further down until his legs were spread, Mycroft slotted between them, and the two grinding shamelessly against each other. Greg's bed was rocking gently but both made sure not to move too fast in case Maggie heard them and came investigating. Greg did _not_ want his mum catching him doing _this_.

The kissing could only intensify, and Greg's legs squeezed around Mycroft's hips as the two locked mouths furiously, licking and sucking back on each other's tongues.

Mycroft's left hand was still pressed against Greg's chest but his fingers were digging in, nails scraping against Greg's shirt roughly. His right fingers were twisting through Greg's hair, tugging painfully, but that just added to the deliciousness of the moment.

The arm Greg had wrapped around Mycroft's waist was steadily moving further south until he was cupping Mycroft's arse and pulling, forcing Mycroft harder against his crotch. He rubbed Mycroft's face with his right hand before pushing through his hair and back to his neck, tugging him down again while doing the same with his other hand.

They were both groaning, moaning, and grunting against each other, bodies feeling incredibly hot and hard, breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps. Finally Mycroft had to pull away and panted heavily against Greg's neck, the older boy gasping above him.

When he had his breathing somewhat under control, Mycroft began pressing soft, wet kisses to Greg's skin, Greg shifting beneath him.

'You were very naughty today, Gregory,' Mycroft murmured.

'W-Was I?' Greg said, swallowing thickly as Mycroft's tongue darted along his neck.

'Mm,' Mycroft hummed. 'I think I have to punish you for taking advantage of me.'

'Well...' Greg groaned as Mycroft's hips thrust against his own, 'if this is my punishment, I should do it more often.'

Mycroft chuckled softly, still dragging his lips and tongue along Greg's neck. He sucked back on Greg's skin, making sure not to leave a mark, before moving further down.

Greg's breathing hitched as Mycroft pushed his shirt up, soon exposing Greg's flat stomach and toned chest to the cool night air. Greg watched with blown eyes as Mycroft's lips brushed down his chest and towards a nipple.

' _O-ooh_ ,' Greg moaned as Mycroft licked across his let nipple. Mycroft smiled and licked again, Greg groaning loudly. He hadn't had a shag in two weeks, he should have been given a fucking medal for not screaming already!

Mycroft's tongue darted out and flicked around Greg's nipple while his lips pressed around the small, hardening nub. Greg moaned and grabbed Mycroft by the head, tugging weakly on his hair as his nipple was sucked.

Mycroft drew back and kissed his way over to Greg's other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the first. Greg briefly felt Mycroft's tongue-piercing rub against the small nub and hissed. He could imagine that little silver bar _elsewhere_ on his body, and nearly came just at the thought.

Of course Mycroft knew what he was thinking and his smouldering blue eyes flicked up to Greg's as he proceeded to kiss down Greg's body, tongue drawing teasing circles around his bellybutton before dipping in.

'Oh Holy fuck,' Greg moaned, arching up and pressing his trapped erection against Mycroft's chest.

Mycroft just smiled and went further. His hands rubbed up from Greg's ankles to his thighs, briefly ghosting over the bulge in the denim and making Greg hiss. Then he was tugging at Greg's belt, the leather sliding free as he popped the button of Greg's jeans and pulled down the zip.

Greg sat up on his elbows, eyeing Mycroft carefully. The auburn-haired teen shuffled back and tugged Greg's tight jeans down, Greg wriggling his hips to help. Soon Mycroft was stepping off the bed and taking Greg's jeans with him, dropping them on the floor in a heap.

He eyed Greg's boxers, the cotton tenting around his erection, and smiled. He leaned down and ripped those off too, Greg gasping as his lower half was suddenly completely exposed.

Mycroft licked his lips as he climbed back onto the bed, pulling Greg's legs apart and settling between them. He rested his arms either side of Greg's hips, leaning on the left one as his right came up.

Greg let out a long, low hiss as Mycroft's warm, soft hand wrapped around his cock, stroking from root to tip. He leaned down and nuzzled Greg's testicles, lips pressing lightly against the heated skin. Greg moaned, head tipping back as Mycroft's tongue licked little circles.

Mycroft continued to stroke Greg slowly, avoiding his head and the pre-ejaculate oozing from the slit. His fingers weren't doing enough, and his mouth was just sending teasing shivers through Greg's body.

He arched up, trying to rut his cock against Mycroft's face and _hopefully_ get some more stimulation. Mycroft just pulled back, hand becoming less firm, and lips kissing at Greg's inner-thighs.

Greg groaned, dropping back to the bed, and Mycroft chuckled against his skin. When he was sure Greg wasn't going to thrust up again, Mycroft went back to kissing and nuzzling Greg's balls. He moved his left hand to roll Greg's sack between his fingers, while his right hand went back to stroking Greg achingly slowly.

Greg's cock was hard and bright red, pre-come leaking down the side and making Mycroft's hand sticky and wet. Finally Mycroft darted forward, sucking one of Greg's testes into his mouth while flicking his thumb over the head of Greg's cock at the same time.

'Jesus Christ, Mycroft,' Greg moaned.

'Hmm?' Mycroft hummed against his crotch, making Greg moan again.

'You're _such_ a fucking tease,' Greg groaned. Usually by the time Greg's trousers came off whatever guy he had for the night would be deep-throating him. But not Mycroft, _noo_. He had to tease and drive Greg absolutely fucking mental.

Mycroft let Greg's sack go with a wet _pop_ , looking up at the other teen and licking his lips. 'I'm sorry, did you want me to move faster?'

Greg scowled and Mycroft chuckled.

'What's the hurry, Gregory?'

'Um... well...'

'Sometimes the journey is just as fun as the ending, you know,' Mycroft mused. His left hand started stroking Greg's thigh, nails digging in slightly and making Greg shiver.

'Yeah, b-but,' Greg whimpered as Mycroft kissed a trail up his thigh. 'My m-mum's out... outside...'

'Hmm, that's true,' Mycroft mused. 'Well next time I'll be exploring each and every inch of your delectable little body.'

Greg nodded quickly; he'd agree to _anything_ just to get Mycroft to suck his cock.

Mycroft smirked and shuffled a bit to get comfortable before directing Greg's cock towards his mouth.

'Mycroft, wait!' Greg said suddenly. Mycroft paused, lips millimetres from the head of Greg's cock. 'You don't have to.'

'What?'

'You don't have to,' Greg repeated.

'Do you not want me to?' Mycroft asked, frowning and moving away.

'No, shit!' Greg groaned. 'Of course I fucking want you to!'

'Then why...?'

'Well, um...' Greg blushed slightly, 'you said you never did... _that_ , without a condom.'

'And...?'

'Well... don't you want me to put one on?' Greg asked.

Mycroft smiled and ducked down, licking a trail up Greg's cock and making the older teen moan. 'I think we're past that, don't you?' he asked. 'Or have you been naughty with other boys?'

'N-No,' Greg whimpered as Mycroft licked him again. 'N-No once since... since...'

Mycroft blew across Greg's slightly wet cock, Greg whimpering. 'Since...?' he pressed.

'Since I f-first saw you,' Greg got out. 'Since the party before... before you kissed m-me.'

Mycroft paused, one rust-coloured eyebrow rising delicately. 'Really?' Greg nodded. 'You haven't been with anyone since... _this_ started?' he asked, gesturing between them with one hand. Greg nodded again and Mycroft smiled. 'I trust you, Gregory.'

And he ducked down, swallowing the tip of Greg's cock.

Greg thrust his head back into the pillows, moaning as Mycroft's skilful tongue twirled around the head of his cock. It felt like it was everywhere and nowhere, ghosting over Greg's heated skin before licking broad strokes across the slit, throat working to swallow the steady stream of pre-come leaking out.

And then he sank further down, tongue-bar running along Greg's cock and making the older teen whine and thrust up. Mycroft pushed him back down with both hands, sucking back as Greg slid from his mouth.

Greg was definitely in heaven when Mycroft went back down, sucking half of Greg's cock into his mouth. Mycroft's tongue- and that delicious little piercing- were rubbing up and down Greg's aching, over-heated skin, while his throat worked to suck the pre-come spilling into his mouth. He was making little humming noises, the act sending vibrations down Greg's shaft and throughout his body.

Greg moaned and looked down, eyes focusing on Mycroft; that pretty mouth, sinking down onto his cock; those pink lips widening as they sucked Greg's shaft in; Mycroft's head tilting with each suck, his eyes focused on his task, cheeks pink and hair a mess atop his head.

Then Mycroft looked up with lust-filled eyes and Greg whimpered, thrusting up again. Mycroft's hands suddenly grabbed Greg's arse, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and pulled. Greg was forced down Mycroft's throat, the younger teen swallowing him completely, and Greg's head thrust back into the pillows as he pushed.

Mycroft kept him moving, kneading Greg's arse as he deep-throated the older teenager's shaft, tongue working quickly and throat swallowing time and time again. Greg couldn't remember a blow job ever being _this_ good and was lost in a sea of pleasure. His entire body was on fire, his muscles clenched and head feeling fuzzy. All he could think about was Mycroft; Mycroft Holmes, that amazing, gorgeous, fucking _sex-god_ , sucking his cock.

Greg's hands fisted in his sheets, feet planted firmly on the mattress as he thrust up. Mycroft welcomed him in, pulling Greg up by the arse. His blue eyes were trained on Greg's face and Greg whimpered every time they made eye-contact; God, how could someone look _that_ fucking good sucking cock?

Greg's hips began to move erratically as he crashed towards his orgasm, Mycroft sucking, licking, humming and swallowing. Greg stuffed a hand into his mouth and bit down as his cries of pleasure became too loud. Sweat was dripping down his forehead, making him squeeze his eyes shut.

And then Mycroft's fingers slid between Greg's cheeks, somehow finding his entrance as he sucked and licked Greg to completion.

When Mycroft's finger pressed against his warm, puckered entrance, Greg cried out against his fist, thrust his prick down Mycroft's throat, and exploded.

All he saw was white, and hot pleasure burst and coiled through his body. His cock shuddered and twitched in Mycroft's mouth as Mycroft sucked and licked Greg clean, humming around Greg's sensitive flesh.

After Mycroft had milked every last drop of Greg's climax, Greg fell to the bed with a thud, cock sliding out of Mycroft's mouth wetly. Greg groaned around his hand, panting heavily, while Mycroft cleaned his red and swollen lips.

Mycroft crawled up the bed and hovered over Greg, Greg's dark brown, sated eyes trying to focus on him. Mycroft gave the older teen a crooked smile and gently removed Greg's hand from his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to the teeth marks Greg had inflicted upon himself.

Greg smiled weakly and Mycroft pressed their lips together, Greg's pliant and soft beneath Mycroft's swollen ones.

When they broke apart Greg felt Mycroft's trapped erection pressing against his thigh and swallowed thickly, trying to remember how to speak.

'D-Do...' Greg stuttered, breathing still laboured, 'do you want me... to...'

'I'm fine,' Mycroft said, catching on quickly but shaking his head.

'Are you sure?' Greg asked. ''Cause really, I _want_ to-'

'No, it's really fine, Gregory,' Mycroft said. He got off the bed and picked up Greg's boxers.

'Um, can you grab me some pyjama bottoms?' Greg asked, sitting up and looking down at his saliva-coated crotch.

Mycroft smiled and opened Greg's drawers, eventually coming back with a pair of blue-and-white striped cotton pyjamas. Greg stood on weak legs and leaned against Mycroft as he pulled them on.

Mycroft jumped on the bed and flopped back, looking pleased with himself when he saw Greg scrub his sweaty face. Greg chuckled and climbed back onto the mattress, shuffling until he was lying beside Mycroft.

'Well,' he mused, 'I'll just have to sneak into _your_ room and return the favour if you won't let me now.'

Mycroft smiled. 'My bedroom's on the second floor of the Manor.'

'Well I'll get a fucking ladder, or go all Spider-Man and climb the fucking wall,' Greg said. 'Gravity means nothing when I want to suck Mycroft Holmes' cock!'

Mycroft giggled and buried his face in Greg's neck, Greg grinning stupidly.

 

{oOo}

 

They sat lying on Greg's bed for over three hours, just chatting and giggling together. At eleven there was a knock on Greg's door and Mycroft dove under the bed, Greg brushing his hair back as he pulled his chair away from the door.

Maggie raised both eyebrows when her son appeared in pyjama bottoms and an AC/DC shirt.

Greg blushed and scratched at his head. 'Um...'

'I'm going to bed, don't stay up too late, okay?' Maggie said.

'M'kay,' Greg said, kissing her cheek. 'Night.'

'Night, honey,' Maggie replied before leaving, Greg shutting the door.

Mycroft crawled out from under the bed and said, 'Aww, you're _so_ cute saying goodnight to your mummy.'

'Shut it,' Greg said, poking Mycroft with his foot.

Mycroft smiled, 'I should go too, I already owe Sherlock.'

'You owe Sherlock?' Greg asked in confusion.

'He's covering for me,' Mycroft said. 'Father doesn't get home until midnight or one, but Mother likes checking up on us. Sherlock tells her I'm out for a walk or reading, whatever's needed to keep her from asking where I am.'

'Oh, right,' Greg nodded, feeling put out that Mycroft was suddenly leaving. 'Um... what do you have to give him?'

'I have to take him to the local hospital and let him run his experiments,' Mycroft said, walking over to the window. 'He constantly tries to sneak into the morgue and I spend half my time getting thrown out by security.'

'Your brother's weird,' Greg said.

Mycroft chuckled. 'At least you're not related to him.'

Greg smiled as Mycroft climbed out the window, dropping to the grass and turning back to Greg.

'I had fun.'

'Yeah?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded. 'I'll definitely be doing this again.'

Greg grinned as Mycroft leaned through the window, kissing him softly. It still sent a shiver of pleasure down Greg's spine and he knew he was smiling stupidly when they broke apart.

'I'll see you tomorrow, Gregory,' Mycroft smiled.

'Night,' Greg smiled back and watched as Mycroft disappeared around the house. He was still smiling after he'd brushed his teeth and hopped into bed, pulling the blankets over his head so he could dream about Mycroft's lips.


	18. At The Library

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver
> 
> Chapter Title: At The Library by Green Day
> 
> Author's Note: Sorry I didn't update yesterday, I ended up sleeping a lot longer than I intended. Anywho, enjoy!
> 
> {Dreamer}

Thursday morning Greg woke up in high spirits again. Maggie stared at him as he ripped into his jam-covered toast, texting on his phone as he did.

'Gregory?'

'Mm?' Greg hummed around his mouthful.

'Are you feeling okay?'

Greg looked up and swallowed. 'What?'

'Are you feeling okay?' Maggie repeated.

'Um... yeah, why?' Greg asked, frowning in confusion.

'Well, you... you...' Maggie stared at her son before shaking her head. 'Never mind.'

Greg shrugged and finished his toast, polished off his coffee, and stood. 'Seeya later, Mum.' He kissed her cheek and grabbed his helmet, heading outside while still texting.

Maggie sighed and rubbed her eyes. 'That boy is _so_ confusing.'

 

{oOo}

 

When Greg pulled up in the school carpark Mycroft was waiting. He smiled as Greg turned his bike off, pulling the keys from the ignition and pocketing them. Greg slid off his bike and tugged his helmet off, saying, 'Hi.'

'Hello,' Mycroft replied, pressing a quick kiss to Greg's lips. 'I must say, I like the jacket.'

Greg looked down at his leather jacket and smiled. 'Ah, yeah, well it's warmer than the school blazer when I'm riding, and if I get it dirty it doesn't matter. Mum'd kill me if I came home with stains all over my uniform.'

Mycroft chuckled and brushed a hand through Greg's hair, Greg staring at him. 'Just flattening it,' Mycroft smiled before turning and walking towards the Boster Building.

They sat beside each other, Mycroft leaning his plain white folder against his legs while lighting a cigarette.

'Why don't you put pictures on it?' Greg asked, gesturing at the folder.

Mycroft shrugged. 'Like what?'

'Um... naked people?' Greg suggested.

Mycroft chuckled and said, 'Well I remember asking someone to send me naked photos, but they didn't, did they?'

Greg snorted. 'Yeah, right. Like I'm gonna let you put naked pictures of me all over your folder.'

'Oh come on, Gregory,' Mycroft teased, leaning closer and whispering in Greg's ear. 'I'll make it worth your while.'

Greg shivered and swallowed thickly, feeling his cock twitch in his trousers. It didn't help that he'd been daydreaming about Mycroft giving him a blow job all morning. 'Um...'

'I'll leave you to think about it, hmm?' Mycroft said, nipping Greg's earlobe and drawing back.

Greg followed him, and when Mycroft turned he found Greg's warm, strawberry jam-flavoured lips pressed against his own. Mycroft couldn't help but breath in deeply, swallowing Greg's scent and taste as they kissed.

They stayed sitting beside each other, backs pressed to the brick wall, lips teasing and pushing gently. Soon Mycroft dropped his cigarette in favour of grabbing Greg's hair, twisting his fingers through the short, slightly-curly brown locks. Greg hummed in pleasure and leaned further forward, twisting his body and leaning against the cold concrete they were sitting on.

'If I followed you two around with a video camera I'd make a fortune.'

Greg groaned and Mycroft chuckled. He pecked Greg on the lips before turning to look up at Dimmock.

Dimmock smiled and continued, 'Seriously, I'd make a tonne of cash on the internet.'

Greg raised an eyebrow. 'And why would people pay to see two guys snogging when they can get it free on Porn Hub or Red Tube or-'

'I get it,' Dimmock cut in, sitting on the concrete path before them. 'You don't need to remind us that you're a filthy little pervert.'

Greg poked his tongue out as Dimmock crossed his legs and shrugged off his bag.

'So how are you two gentlemen this fine morning?'

Greg scowled as he pulled out his cigarettes, both Mycroft and Dimmock doing the same. 'I'm still not talking to you,' Greg grumbled.

Dimmock looked at him. 'Since when are you not talking to me?'

'Since you were a prick yesterday,' Greg said.

'You _do_ realise that you're talking to me right now, right?' Dimmock smiled at the glare Greg shot him as he lit a cigarette, blowing smoke above his head.

'Why aren't you talking to him?' Mycroft asked.

'He was a prick.'

'And he was a prick because...?' Mycroft pressed.

Greg blushed and glared at Dimmock, who was snickering and staring between them. 'Um, just... stuff.'

'Stuff?' Mycroft asked, Greg nodding. 'That makes no sense.'

'My mind works in mysterious ways,' Greg said.

'Mm-hmm,' Mycroft hummed, glancing at a still giggling Dimmock.

'Anyway,' Dimmock said, getting control of himself. 'Greg, did you finish the PE assignment?'

Greg groaned. 'Don't remind me, I was up half the other night doing that fucking thing.'

'Sure you weren't looking at porn?' Dimmock asked. Greg stuck his finger up and Dimmock said, 'Can I take a look? I don't know if I got the second essay question right.'

Greg nodded and dug around his bag before pulling out a plastic sleeve with his assignment in it. He handed it to Dimmock, who grabbed his own and sat them on his legs.

After a few minutes Dimmock hummed and said, 'I think I got it right.'

'Do you want me to look?' Mycroft asked.

Greg and Dimmock both looked at him. 'You don't take PE,' Dimmock said.

Mycroft tisked. 'I _am_ a genius.'

Dimmock looked at Greg, who shrugged, and handed both assignments over. Mycroft stubbed his cigarette out and glanced down at Dimmock's assignment first, blue eyes darting across the pages as he flicked through them quickly.

He took Greg's out next and hummed as he looked it through.

'Well?' Dimmock asked.

'You'll get a B, Gregory an A,' Mycroft said.

Greg blinked. 'What?'

'You heard me,' Mycroft said, putting the assignments in their sleeves and handing them back to their owners.

'But... how can you know that?' Greg asked.

'I'm a genius,' Mycroft shrugged.

'But...' Greg tried again.

'Gregory, you and Michael- sorry, _Dimmock_ ,' he corrected when Dimmock glared at him, 'used the same amount of information and resources. However, yours is worded and structured in a much better way, which the teacher marking will take into account. Your information flows better than Dimmock's. Therefore, _you_ will get an A, Dimmock a B.'

Greg beamed and Dimmock cursed as he stuffed his paper back into his bag.

'What's wrong with a B?' Greg asked in a teasing voice.

'Nothing,' Dimmock scowled.

'I don't think I've ever got a B in my life,' Mycroft hummed. Greg and Dimmock looked at him. 'What?'

'You've never got a B?' Greg asked.

Mycroft shook his head. 'I got an A once, but I usually get an A* for all assignments and subjects.'

'Right...' Dimmock said, mouth falling open slightly.

'What'd you get an A in?' Greg asked.

Mycroft smiled slightly. 'PE.' Greg giggled. 'Which is why I chose not to do it for my A-Levels,' Mycroft continued.

'What classes do you do?' Dimmock asked.

'Government and Politics, English Literature, Chemistry, Triple Science, French, Biology, Further Mathematics, and History,' Mycroft answered. 'I also studied and passed Economics and Business, Law, Ancient History, Applied Mathematics, Applied Science, Accounting, and Computing at A-Levels and further when I was younger,' Mycroft said, oblivious to the shocked looks Greg and Dimmock were both sporting.

'That's on top of learning Mandarin, Italian, German, and Spanish. I was thinking of taking Latin and perhaps learning Japanese but I don't have the time. Of course I could just do more subjects than I originally intended when I go to university- what?'

He'd finally noticed Greg and Dimmock stared at him and raised an eyebrow.

'You... shit, you're doing _all_ of that?' Dimmock asked.

'No, I only study eight subjects currently, at A-Level,' Mycroft said. 'But I took and passed seven A-Levels between the ages of eleven and fourteen, and learned three languages, while my father taught me German, and I'm taking French now.'

Greg and Dimmock were still staring, open-mouthed.

'Why?' Mycroft asked. 'How many subjects are you doing?'

'Five,' Greg and Dimmock answered together.

'I do PE, English Lit, Applied Science, Ancient History, and Biology,' Dimmock said.

'I do the same,' Greg added, 'except not Ancient History, I do Sociology.'

Mycroft stared at them. 'That's all?'

'What do you mean, "that's all"?' Dimmock said. 'Five subjects is bloody hard.'

'We're not all geniuses,' Greg muttered.

'Genii,' Mycroft corrected.

'What?'

'Genii,' Mycroft repeated, Greg staring at him. 'The plural of genius is genii, not geniuses.'

Greg scowled. 'Whatever!'

Mycroft just smirked and lit a fresh cigarette. 'I'd be happy to tutor you if you wish.'

'Tutor us?' Dimmock asked. 'How do you have the time to do that?' He chuckled when Mycroft looked at him pointedly. 'Right, right, genius.'

'Wait, do you mean _actual_ tutoring, or... BJ Masters tutoring?' Greg asked.

Mycroft chuckled. 'I meant _actual_ tutoring,' he said, leaning across to Greg. 'I only "BJ Masters tutor", as you put it, _you_ , Gregory dear.' He pressed his lips to Greg's and Greg grinned, pulling Mycroft closer to deepen the kiss.

Dimmock managed to hold in his snort. _They are un-fucking-believable_ , he thought. If Greg continued to deny that he fancied Mycroft Holmes Dimmock would kill him.

After spending a good ten minutes snogging- with Dimmock taking a sneaky photo and sending it to Molly- the couple broke apart with swollen lips and flushed faces. Mycroft dropped his burnt-out cigarette and said, 'I have to go.'

'Why?' Greg whined.

Mycroft chuckled and kissed him again. 'Library?'

''Kay,' Greg smiled, getting one last kiss before Mycroft stood. He dusted down his trousers and grabbed his folder.

'Have a nice day, Gregory, Dimmock.'

'Seeya,' Dimmock said while Greg waved, eyes lingering long after Mycroft had disappeared around the corner.

' _Waah-chh_ ,' Dimmock murmured.

'Fuck off,' was Greg's reply.

 

{oOo}

 

At lunch Greg made his way to the library, but was stopped just inside the doors by Mrs Mallen.

Greg absolutely _hated_ Anita Mallen, and the feeling was mutual. She'd been Greg's English Lit teacher until she'd had him transferred into Mycroft's class. Greg had had to swap his free period and Sociology class around, but it was worth it to get away from The-Whore-of-Baker-Street-Academy. Quite a mouthful, but Greg thought the title worked.

'Mrs Mallen, beautiful day,' Greg said sarcastically.

Mrs Mallen scowled. 'What are you doing here, Lestrade?'

'In school? Well, I chose to do my A-Levels, even though I don't need them for the job I want,' Greg babbled. 'But Mum wanted me to have options and I passed the school's tests so I got in, and I figured showing up would help, so I-'

'Stop being a smart-arse, Lestrade,' Mallen cut in.

Greg just smiled. 'Smart-arse, Mrs Mallen? I was just answering your question, miss, I meant you no disrespect.'

Mrs Mallen's scowl, if possible, darkened. 'Lestrade, the library is for students wishing to study and do their work in peace.'

'Well... that's what libraries are for, right?' Greg said. 'So it's hardly surprising, really, that the library at school would be used for that reason.'

'If you want to stuff around, go somewhere else,' Mrs Mallen said. 'Or better yet, go out into the real world and get a job.'

'I've got a job stacking shelves at Tesco,' Greg said. 'But I'll get a- what would you call it?- oh, yes, a _proper_ job, as soon as I get my A-Levels,' Greg smiled. 'I was thinking of going to university; maybe studying criminology, you know, bust punk teenagers who go out drinking all night-'

'You mean teenagers such as yourself?' Mallen asked.

Greg put a hand to his chest. 'I'm _hurt_ , Mrs Mallen, absolutely _hurt_ that you would think so little of me!'

'Don't give me any of your-' Mrs Mallen began to snarl, but was cut off when Mycroft appeared at Greg's elbow.

'Is there a problem here, Mrs Mallen?' he asked politely.

Greg smiled and stuffed his hands into his pockets as Mrs Mallen looked at Mycroft.

'Mycroft, dear,' she smiled sweetly. Greg would never get over just how much the teachers _loved_ Mycroft Holmes. 'I was just warning Gregory-' she shot Greg a scathing look, and Greg just grinned widely, '- that the library isn't for trouble makers.'

'Trouble makers?' Mycroft frowned. 'No, Gregory's here because I'm tutoring him in English Literature.'

Greg had to stop a snicker escaping as Mrs Mallen's mouth dropped open. 'Pardon?'

'Gregory asked me if I'd tutor him in English Literature, Sociology, and Applied Science. He's got quite a firm grasp of everything but a little help never hurt.'

'You... you're tutoring _Lestrade_?' Mrs Mallen asked. Mycroft nodded. 'He... pardon?'

Greg was about to fall over from trying to keep his laughter in as Mycroft politely told her some bullshit about Greg asking him for help. Every time Mrs Mallen looked at him Greg smiled sweetly, and bit hard into his bottom lip when she looked back at Mycroft.

Finally Mrs Mallen nodded, still looking thoroughly confused, and stepped aside.

'Come, Gregory,' Mycroft smiled.

'Mrs Mallen, always a pleasure,' Greg grinned widely at the woman.

She glared hard at him as Greg trailed after Mycroft, the two going to Mycroft's usual table in the far back corner.

'Oh God, did you _see_ her face?' Greg asked, dropping into a chair and giggling. Mycroft sat opposite him and smiled as Greg covered his face to stop laughing loudly.

'I take it there's no love lost between the two of you?' Mycroft asked as he sat, pulling his shoulder-bag off.

'She fuckin' _hates_ me,' Greg said, 'ever since I let off a firecracker in our first English Lit class.'

Mycroft raised his eyebrows. 'How have you not been expelled yet?'

'I'm charming,' Greg said, flashing Mycroft a smile. Mycroft chuckled. 'Besides, she couldn't prove it was me. Half the guys in class had lighters, as well as a couple of the chicks. I _did_ get detention for having cigarettes in my bag, but so did Dimmo, Joe, BJ, a whole heap of people. Good fun, that detention.'

Mycroft laughed softly and pulled his books out, setting everything across the table neatly. Greg watched him for a few minutes before saying, 'Can I ask you something?'

'Mm?'

'Why do you go to this school?' Mycroft looked up at him. 'I mean, Baker Street's a good school, yeah, but there are plenty of better ones. St Mary's is a lot more selective, and there's two a few miles from here in the next town over.'

Mycroft smiled and put his pen down. 'We moved here because Mother no longer wished to live in London. I attended Eton College before coming here, and my marks were enough to get me into Baker Street without taking the tests. I also had offers from St Mary's College, Barnaby Sixth Form College, and Artemis Catholic School. My parents also considered sending me to Harrow, Shrewsbury, and other boarding schools, all of whom said they'd be delighted to accept me, but I wanted to come here.'

'Why?' Greg asked.

'Baker Street Academy isn't the best school around, true,' Mycroft said, 'but it offered me the subjects I wanted to take before attending university, as well as the chance to be myself.'

'You mean the punk-rock Mycroft?'

Mycroft chuckled. 'Yes, I suppose so,' he nodded. 'Here I can skip a day or two of school every now and then and it doesn't matter. If I attended a more selective school they'd call my parents. Plus, there was more of a chance of meeting others like myself here.'

Greg's dark brown eyes raked over Mycroft's face slowly, Mycroft just staring at him. Finally he blinked and cleared his throat. 'Well, I'm glad you came here.'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'Oh?'

Greg nodded, grabbing his bag and pulling it open. 'Yeah, definitely glad you came here.'

He pulled his work out while Mycroft watched him, the two soon having their books spread across the table. Greg started working on his homework, Mycroft's eyes flicking up to him every few seconds.

'You don't have to stay here with me, you know,' Mycroft said suddenly.

'Hmm?' Greg hummed, glancing up.

'You stayed here with me at lunch yesterday,' Mycroft continued. 'You can go hang out with your friends if you want.'

Greg paused, twirling his pen between two fingers. Mycroft waited patiently until Greg shrugged and said, 'I like being here.'

'You like being here?' Mycroft echoed.

'Mm,' Greg nodded. 'S'fine.'

'But-'

'I can sit here with you,' Greg cut in, 'and I get my homework out of the way, leaving more time after school.' Greg shrugged again. 'I like spending time with you.'

Mycroft sat frozen as Greg went back to his work, pen scratching across his notebook, fingers occasionally grabbing a piece of paper or flipping through a textbook. Eventually Mycroft went back to his own work, but he glanced at Greg every minute.

Greg didn't notice the small smile tug at Mycroft's face, or the way Mycroft positioned his body so he could watch Greg every few minutes as they worked.


	19. Prisoner of Society

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver
> 
> Chapter Title: Prisoner of Society by The Living End

'Where the fuck have you been?' Joe demanded as soon as Greg appeared after his detention. Joe and Dylan had had footy practice and were covered in grass stains while leaning against Joe's car.

'Detention,' Greg said. 'Why? You two been making out on the oval and want some pointers?'

Dylan made retching sounds as Joe punched Greg in the arm. 'Don't be a dick.'

'Where've you been all day?' Dylan asked. 'Haven't seen you since Science.'

'Um... I've been around, you know,' Greg said, shrugging slightly.

'That's informative,' Dylan snickered.

'Whaddya want me to say?' Greg asked as he lit a cigarette, setting his helmet on his bike.

Dylan rolled his eyes and Joe said, 'Um... how 'bout the truth?'

'Humping your brother, it was _glorious_ ,' Greg said.

'Oh that is _so_ wrong,' Joe groaned.

''Specially since Damian's thirteen,' Dylan grinned.

Greg just poked his tongue out sucked back on his cigarette.

'LESTRADE!'

Greg and his mates turned to see Mrs Mallen walking across the grass.

'Shit,' Greg groaned and dropped his cigarette, crushing it with the heel of his shoe. 'Mrs Mallen-'

'I don't want to hear it, young man,' the teacher scowled. 'Front office, now!'

Greg sulked as Joe and Dylan snickered, watching as he trooped towards Mrs Mallen.

'Let's see what your mother has to say about your habit,' Mrs Mallen said as Greg followed her to the office.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg sat in the Headmaster's office, with Mrs Mallen and the deputy head teacher, Mr Douglas, on either side of him, as the Headmaster called his mum. He could hear her shouting through the phone and winced when the Headmaster glared at him.

When his mum hung up, Mr Rourke said, 'She wants you to go straight home and wait for her.'

'Yes, sir.'

'I can't express how disappointed we are in you, Gregory,' Mr Douglas said.

Greg stared at his lap.

'Detention for two weeks, I want you here at six-thirty every morning,' Mr Rourke continued. 'You can help Mr Strong clean the school.'

Greg knew better than to backchat and just nodded as he was allowed to leave. The school was deserted and Greg cursed, kicking at bins and whatever else he could reach as he walked to his bike.

When he got home, Greg made some noodles and hid in his room, closing the door and hiding under his blankets as he ate. He knew it wouldn't stop his mum kicking the door down and ripping him a new one, but he had to try.

Maggie got home at five and, sure enough, his bedroom door slammed into the wall as she stalked in.

'Gregory Johnathan Lestrade, what the hell is wrong with you?' Maggie demanded. 'Smoking on school _grounds_?'

'Um-'

'I don't want to hear your excuses!' Maggie shouted as she walked over to his dresser and ripped the drawers open.

Greg could only watch as his mum went through all his stuff, eventually dumping all the crap she'd found on his desk. There were a dozen porn mags, some DVDs Dimmock had given him, a carton of smokes he'd hidden in his bottom drawer, as well as a bottle of bourbon he'd been keeping, an opened box of condoms, and a tube of lubricant.

She also found the jar he kept for his cigarette butts and Greg stared at his hands as his mum gathered it all up, leaving the condoms and lube on the desk.

'You're grounded for two weeks, do you hear me?' Maggie seethed. 'No internet, no TV, no anything! If I catch you smoking again I will kick your arse so hard you won't walk straight for a month!

'And if you think you're going out partying with your dickhead mates you can think again, Gregory! Now clean up this goddamn room and do your bloody homework! I don't want to hear one word, young man!'

Greg was quick to do as asked, grabbing his bowl and glass and hastening to the kitchen. He washed what was in the sink, hoping to get some sympathy from his mum- she just glared at him.

Greg pouted as he walked back to his room and sat at his desk, spreading his books across it and leaning against the table. His mobile buzzed when he was halfway through his Biology work and he glanced at his open bedroom door before checking his messages.

 

_I hear you were caught smoking in the carpark. Tisk, tisk, Gregory - M_

 

Greg rolled his eyes as he texted back, keeping his mobile under his desk in case his mum came in.

 

**Fuck you, alright? I smoke every fucking day at school and NOW I get caught?! Mrs Mallen's a fucking bitch.**

 

_Smoking in broad daylight is just stupid. At least TRY and hide - M_

 

**Fuck you.**

 

_I'm hurt - M_

 

'What do you think you're doing?'

Greg jumped and dropped his phone, twisting to see that Maggie was standing behind him, arms folded.

'Mum-' She swiped his phone and pocketed it, glaring at him as Greg said, 'Mum, come on!'

'You can have it back after dinner,' Maggie said. She pointed at his work. 'Books, now!'

Greg sulked and turned back, scowling as his mum left.

 

{oOo}

 

After dinner Greg was sent to bed at ten, his mum taking his laptop to her own bedroom. Greg pouted but knew better than to argue with her; his mum had a fierce temper and he quite liked having all his limbs.

He did get his phone back, though, and pulled the blankets over his head as he checked his messages.

 

_Did I offend you? - M_

 

It had been sent more than three hours earlier and Greg quickly texted back.

 

**Mum caught me texting you and took my phone.**

 

He also had texts from Dimmock, Joe and Dylan, and messaged them back before his phone buzzed.

 

_Poor Gregory :( - M_

 

**You're a funny fucker, you know that?**

 

_I've been told on more than one occasion - M_

 

**Being a teenager sucks.**

 

_So much teenage angst, however will you cope?_

 

**Fuck you.**

 

_I love you too. Now, I'M going to a party tonight. I'm going to get drunk, smoke an entire packet of cigarettes, and watch some internet porn when I get home. What are YOU doing? - M_

 

Greg scowled as he texted back.

 

**Lying in bed and touching myself- unlike you, I like playing with big things.**

 

_Touche, Gregory dear - M_

 

**I'm flipping you off right now.**

 

_Ooh, scary. How much trouble did you get into? - M_

 

**I gotta be at school by six-thirty for two weeks. Mum grounded me too; no internet, no TV. That's on top of the detentions I got from Jambrook for writing notes to you.**

 

_Now I'm REALLY upset- who am I supposed to make out with at parties if you're grounded? - M_

 

**How about you kiss your arse?**

 

_Now, now, no need to be mean. I can break you out, if you wish - M_

 

**Oh yeah, my mum'll LOVE that. Go on, then.**

 

_Hmm... I have a secret plan, Gregory dear - M_

 

**What plan?**

 

_Ah, ah; secrets are called that because no one else knows them - M_

 

**I really, REALLY hate you.**

 

_Do not. I'll see you tomorrow, Gregory. Happy wanking - M_

 

**Fuck you.**

 

_Goodnight, Gregory dear - M_

 

**Night, Mycroft darling.**

 

Greg got a smiley-face in response and grinned as he put his phone on the bedside table. He made sure his alarm was set for six before rolling onto his back under the covers.

He couldn't help but think about Mycroft going out and getting drunk. What if he found some bloke to shag because Greg wasn't there?

Greg scowled and pulled the blankets over his head, content to pout until he fell asleep.


	20. Mycroft Has A Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver

Greg got up at six Friday morning. His mum scowled at him across the table and Greg was silent, keeping his eyes on his plate as he ate. He kissed his mum on the cheek before he grabbed his helmet and left.

When Greg got to school Mycroft was already there again and Greg frowned. 'What are you doing here so early?' he asked after he'd taken his helmet off

'I thought I'd keep you company,' Mycroft smiled.

'I have detention,' Greg said. 'Not that I don't appreciate the offer,' he added when Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

The other teen chuckled and pressed a kiss to Greg's lips. 'They'll make you walk around with a rubbish bag picking up garbage. There's no rule saying I can't follow you while you do it.'

'You have odd hobbies,' Greg commented.

'It's been fairly obvious for a while now that I'm not normal,' Mycroft smiled.

Greg just shook his head and climbed off his bike. Mycroft waited in the quad while Greg went to the deputy head teacher's office. Mr Douglas berated Greg for ten minutes on smoking- while also giving him a lecture on the health issues it caused- before giving Greg a large black bin bag and sending him on his way.

Mycroft smirked when Greg came into view and Greg said, 'So, can you read minds?'

'No,' Mycroft chuckled. 'I was caught smoking last year and this is what they made me do.'

'You were caught smoking?' Greg asked as he headed to the left, figuring he'd clean the walkways and circle back around before starting on the quad and small grass-area.

'Mm,' Mycroft nodded.

'Didn't they call your parents?'

'Well, they tried to call Father,' Mycroft said, 'but he was in Singapore on business. Mother was at some spa in the next town over, and they thought calling Sherlock would be helpful. Sherlock shouted at them for twenty minutes about me being able to do whatever the hell I wanted and barely escaped a detention himself.'

Greg chuckled.

'Then they tried Mrs Lander and she promised to tell my parents.'

'And...?' Greg asked.

Mycroft smirked. 'I pay that woman fifty quid every time she covers for me.'

'So she's a rich woman, huh?' Greg said. Mycroft chuckled. Greg started picking up rubbish as Mycroft slid his BlackBerry out, tapping at the keys quickly, blue eyes locked onto the screen. 'So...' Greg began, pausing when Mycroft looked at him.

'Yes?' Mycroft queried.

'Um... how was the party?'

Mycroft lowered his phone slightly. 'It was the same as every other party; alcohol and inebriated teenagers.'

'Oh, right,' Greg nodded, grabbing an empty packet of crisps.

'Why?'

'No reason,' Greg said quickly, staring pointedly at the ground.

Mycroft's eyes roamed over him carefully. 'I got there at ten, had a few drinks, and left by eleven,' he finally said, Greg looking at him sharply. 'It wasn't any fun; what am I supposed to do with myself without the town's local boy slut to tease and touch?'

'Oh,' Greg hummed, looking pleased. 'Well, yeah, that's... good.'

'Good?'

'I mean, um... bad,' he corrected, trying not to smile. 'Sorry it sucked.'

'Mm,' Mycroft nodded. 'There will always be other parties.'

''Course,' Greg nodded, grabbing a few pieces of rubbish.

He was still smiling stupidly.

 

{oOo}

 

They walked around for two hours, Mycroft getting a few looks as he trailed beside Greg, either chatting to the other teenager or reading his phone. Greg knew that soon enough people would put two and two together and figure out that he and Mycroft were doing... _something_ together.

There were those like Andy Freen and his mates who'd realise that they were shagging, while others would probably think Greg was trying to corrupt Mycroft, or maybe that Mycroft was trying to appear cooler by hanging out with Greg.

Greg found that he really didn't care, no matter what rumours might start. He liked being with Mycroft- fucking _loved_ it if he was honest- and didn't give a fuck what people thought. As long as Mycroft knew that Greg liked him (in a purely friendship way, Greg did _not_ fancy him!), that was all that mattered.

When Greg had finally filled the bag the bell went and Mycroft walked Greg to the front office. He glanced around before kissing Greg softly and saying, 'I'll see you later.'

Greg smiled and thanked him for following him around, Mycroft just smiling and heading off.

'Why are you smiling?' Mr Douglas asked when Greg showed him the full bag.

'Um... I just _really_ love picking up rubbish,' Greg said. 'Might be a garbage man, drive one of those awesome trucks.'

Mr Douglas frowned in confusion before dismissing him, Greg grinning as he headed for the dumpsters.

 

{oOo}

 

'Have a fun morning?' Dimmock asked when Greg dropped into the seat beside him in PE.

Greg scowled and dragged his bag towards him, ripping it open.

'What'd your mum do?'

'Fucking raided my room,' Greg grumbled as he pulled his stuff out. 'She nicked all my smokes, my porn, and grounded me for two weeks. On top of that she took my laptop and said I can't watch TV.'

Dimmock snickered.

'It ain't funny,' Greg fumed. 'I was texting Mycroft and she took my bloody phone-'

'You were texting Mycroft?' Dimmock interrupted. Greg nodded. 'When?'

'Yesterday arvo, just after Mum got home,' Greg said.

'I see...' Dimmock mused.

Greg groaned and leaned back in his seat. 'Don't start, Dimmo.'

'I didn't say anything,' Dimmock raised his hands.

Greg scowled and grabbed a pen, doodling in the margins of his notebook.

'So you weren't suspended, obviously,' Dimmock finally said. 'How much trouble did you get into?'

'Just two weeks detention,' Greg shrugged. 'Gotta be here at six-thirty every morning and pick up rubbish.'

'Well that's not too bad,' Dimmock said. 'Could be scraping gum off desks or somethin'.'

'Mm,' Greg nodded, still drawing in his book.

'So...' Dimmock hummed, Greg looking at him. 'Heard you were walking 'round with Mycroft this morning,' he couldn't help but blurt.

Greg rolled his eyes and didn't answer, just staring at his book as Dimmock watched him.

'Well?' Dimmock asked.

'Well what?'

The other teen huffed. 'Were you walking around with Mycroft?!'

Greg glared at him when a few people turned to look at them. Dimmock told them all to piss off and Greg snorted, looking back at his book.

'Well?' Dimmock asked again.

'Well what?'

'Don't be a cunt,' Dimmock said.

'What?' Greg frowned. 'So I was walking around with Mycroft, so what?' He lowered his voice. 'You've seen us snogging _loads _of times, why is this surprising?'__

__'Well... what was Mycroft doing here at six-thirty?' Dimmock asked._ _

__Greg blushed slightly and Dimmock raised an eyebrow. 'Well, um...' Greg murmured. 'He was... you know, here 'cause... he always gets here early.'_ _

__'Really?'_ _

__'Yeah.'_ _

__'He _always_ gets here two hours before class starts?' Dimmock asked._ _

__'Yup,' Greg nodded._ _

__Dimmock blinked at him for a few seconds before saying, 'That is _such_ horse-shit.'_ _

__'Dimmo-'_ _

__'Come on, Greg,' Dimmock cut in._ _

__'I dunno what you want me to say,' Greg shrugged._ _

__Dimmock groaned and slouched in his seat. 'You're killing me, Greggie.'_ _

__'Love you too.'_ _

__Dimmock snorted and Greg ignored him._ _

____

 

{oOo}

 

Despite spending lunch with Mycroft, Greg was still feeling put out when he got home. His mum had called to make sure he headed straight home after his detention with Mr Jambrook, so Greg didn't have a chance to chat to Mycroft- or kiss him.

Greg knew better than to complain; though his mum wasn't yelling at him, she was still pissed off. So Greg went straight to his room and did his homework before sitting at the table for dinner. Afterwards he went back to his room, cleaned it, and sprawled across his bed.

His phone buzzed at nine and Greg swiped his thumb along the touch screen.

 

_I have a plan - M_

 

Greg frowned as he texted back.

 

**Gonna share it?**

 

_Patience, Mr Lestrade - M_

 

**Fuck you.**

 

_Goodnight, Gregory dear - M_

 

Greg chuckled.

 

**Night, Mycroft darling.**

 

Feeling a bit better, Greg crawled under the blankets and figured he'd try and get some sleep. He had an entire weekend to look forward to with no parties and no mates.

Just kill him now.

 

{oOo}

 

On Sunday Greg was feeling slightly insane. He'd had work on Saturday and earlier that day at Tesco, but other than that, he hadn't been allowed to leave the house. Thankfully he still had his mobile; without Mycroft and Dimmock texting him, Greg would have definitely lost his marbles.

At dinner that night, Maggie said, 'Mrs Holmes is coming over for tea tomorrow, so I want you acting pleasant, understand?'

Greg jolted slightly, looking up at his mum. He hadn't had tea with Mrs Holmes since he'd started sort-of shagging her son. He didn't know how to act around her... would she be able to tell Greg wanted in her son's trousers? Mums could do that, right? See right through you and know all your dirty secrets?

'Gregory?'

Greg jumped again and said, 'Um, yeah, alright.'

'You'll be home, dressed in something that _doesn't_ mortally offend her, and act charming,' Maggie said.

'Mum, I think only my school uniform wouldn't mortally offend that woman,' Greg said. 'And I'm not even sure about that.'

Maggie chuckled as she cut up her steak. 'Yes, Gregory, I know. But just try, okay?'

'I will,' Greg said. He'd do _anything_ to get on his mum's good side. And maybe, just maybe, she'd un-ground him before the two weeks were up.

'Don't bet on it, buddy,' Maggie said, smiling when Greg cursed.

Remember what he said about mums knowing everything?

There were a few minutes of silence before Greg swallowed his mashed potatoes and said, 'Um... will Mycroft be coming?'

Maggie blinked and looked up at him. 'Mycroft?' Greg nodded. 'I suppose so,' Maggie said. 'He usually comes, doesn't he?'

'Yeah,' Greg said.

'Why?' Maggie asked.

Greg shrugged. 'Just wonderin'.'

Maggie's eyes narrowed as Greg innocently pushed his peas around. 'What have you got planned, Gregory?'

'What? Nothing!' When Maggie continued to stare at him, Greg said, 'Honestly, Mum, I was just wonderin'.'

'Mm-hmm.'

'Honest,' Greg repeated.

'Forgive me if I don't believe you.'

Greg just shrugged and tried to keep the smile off his face. Spending a few extra hours with Mycroft was great news, even if their mums were there.

Maggie continued to watch her son as he ate, Greg just humming under his breath.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg didn't see Mycroft until he went to the library at lunch on Monday. He dropped into his seat and said, 'Where've you been?'

'Around,' Mycroft said, smiling when Greg huffed. 'Why, did you miss me?'

'No,' Greg lied, pouting and folding his arms.

Mycroft chuckled and leaned across the table, pressing a soft kiss to Greg's lips. Greg's pout immediately melted away and he was grinning when Mycroft sat back down.

'So...'

'So...?' Mycroft echoed.

'Your mum's comin' 'round for tea,' Greg said.

'Mm,' Mycroft nodded. 'She is.'

'So...' Greg repeated and Mycroft raised an eyebrow, 'you don't have anything to do with that, do you?'

Mycroft smiled. 'I don't control what my mother does, Gregory dear.'

Greg snorted. 'I reckon you control _everything_.'

'Everything, huh?' Greg nodded. 'What a lovely notion,' Mycroft said. 'Perhaps one day I'll run everything.'

'Oh yeah,' Greg said. 'Mycroft Holmes: British Government.' Mycroft chuckled. 'And Secret Boy Slut.'

'You wound me,' Mycroft said, placing a hand against his chest and batting his eyelashes.

'So, um...' Greg murmured, 'you're comin', right?'

'Coming to...?'

'Are you being a prick on purpose?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft smirked. 'No, I'm afraid I was born this way.'

'You know, that actually might be true,' Greg said. 'I mean, look at Sherlock.'

'Yes, he _does_ have a way with people,' Mycroft chuckled.

'You're coming, right?' Greg asked.

'Maybe.'

' _Mycroft_ ,' Greg whined.

' _Gregory_ ,' Mycroft retorted.

Greg's pout was back and Mycroft quickly kissed it away. Greg smiled and grabbed his books as Mycroft looked back at his own, the two falling into silence as they did their homework.

'So you're comin', right?' Greg repeated.

'Maybe,' Mycroft replied.

'Bastard,' Greg huffed, scratching at his notebook angrily.

Mycroft chuckled.

 

{oOo}

 

Mycroft's Jaguar was gone by the time Greg got to the carpark, and Greg sighed as he straddled his bike and pulled his helmet on. He really, really, _really_ hoped Mycroft was going to be there. Otherwise he might just leap across the table and throw Mrs Holmes' tea in her fucking face.

With that image firmly planted in mind, Greg stuck his keys into the ignition and pulled out of the carpark.

At home his mum was fussing- like usual- and shooed Greg away to his room to get dressed. Greg decided on skinny-black jeans, a red and black striped shirt, and a black button-up shirt. He was _not_ going all out for Mrs Holmes.

But he _did_ want Mycroft to look at him.

Greg blushed slightly at his own thoughts as he headed back into the kitchen to wait for the Holmeses.

At four on the dot the doorbell rang and Maggie let Meghan and Mycroft in. Meghan was dressed in her usual "old person" outfit, and Mycroft was wearing pressed black trousers and a white button-up shirt tucked in and wrinkle-free.

Greg tried _really_ hard to give Mycroft his old "I hate you" look but failed miserably. He managed a small smile that Mycroft returned and Maggie raised an eyebrow at him as Greg sat down opposite Mycroft at the table.

Maggie and Meghan exchanged pleasantries while Greg and Mycroft sipped their tea- Mycroft being his usual polite self and Greg trying hard not to stare.

About an hour in Greg felt something touch his leg and jolted. His eyes met Mycroft's and the younger teen smirked behind his tea-cup as... yes, that was Mycroft's foot slowly sliding up Greg's leg and towards his crotch.

Greg swallowed thickly and took a large gulp of tea, shivering when the toe of Mycroft's leather shoe started pushing at his cock.

'How are you, Mycroft?' Maggie asked.

'Just fine,' Mycroft smiled at her, blue eyes looking away from Greg to fix on the woman. 'Studying hard and helping my younger brother with school work.'

'Oh, that's nice,' Maggie smiled. 'Sometimes I wish Greg had a little brother to play with.'

Greg inhaled sharply as Mycroft's foot continued to press against his rapidly hardening cock. Oh dear God, what was wrong with him? He was getting hard with his _mother_ sitting right next to him! If the small smirk playing at Mycroft's lips was anything to go by, the red-head knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

'They can be a handful, and sometimes you argue and fight,' Mycroft said, 'but Sherlock's my brother and I love him, regardless of our differences.'

'Lovely,' Maggie smiled. 'I hear he's as smart as you are, Mycroft.'

'Sherly definitely has a brain on his shoulders,' Meghan said as her eldest son rubbed Greg's crotch, 'but he doesn't want to apply himself as hard as Mycroft does.'

'Well, he's only thirteen,' Maggie said as _her_ son bit his lip and stared hard at the plate of digestives in the middle of the table. 'Gregory does well in school, but he could do better if he applied himself a little more.'

Greg grunted and all eyes turned to him. He blushed darkly and grabbed a biscuit, shoving it into his mouth and refusing to meet Mycroft's eyes. Mycroft smirked before looking at Maggie.

'I could always _tutor_ Gregory,' he said politely, though Greg heard the emphasis on the "T" word. 'I would be glad to help.'

'Really?' Maggie said, glancing at her son. Greg swallowed down another mouthful of tea. 'I'd hate to see Greg not get the job he wants because he didn't study hard now.'

'I... s-study,' Greg choked out as Mycroft's shoe dug into the bulge in his jeans.

'Are you alright, Gregory?' Mycroft asked.

'F-Fine,' Greg stuttered. 'Just... h-hot... t-tea.'

'Well you should always be careful,' Meghan said, glaring at Greg like he was an idiot for swallowing hot tea.

Greg shot her a scathing look and Maggie quickly said, 'Thank you, Mycroft.'

'Not a problem,' Mycroft smiled. 'Speaking of tutoring, Mummy, I'm due at Benjamin's in twenty minutes.'

'Of course, dear,' Meghan said, turning to her son. 'You be careful and study hard.'

Greg's mouth fell open. No fucking way. Mycroft was _not_ going to leave him here with Maggie and Meghan! Mycroft's foot disappeared as he stood and Greg breathed out heavily.

'Ms Lestrade, I was actually thinking that Gregory could join Benjamin and me today,' Mycroft said suddenly.

Greg raised an eyebrow as Meghan turned to look at her son again, Maggie suddenly frozen halfway between standing and sitting.

'Pardon?' Maggie asked.

'Gregory just needs someone to explain things properly to him,' Mycroft said, 'and I think I can help him do better in school.'

'Well... that's very nice of you, Mycroft,' Meghan said, looking at Maggie.

Greg did too and his mum said, 'Oh, well... I wouldn't want to bother you, Mycroft.'

'It's not a problem, I assure you,' Mycroft smiled. 'I enjoy tutoring people.'

'Well...' Maggie said and glanced at Greg.

Greg could understand his mum's hesitance; after all, she was still under the assumption that Greg hated the other teenager.

'Um... I don't mind, Mum,' Greg said, Maggie staring at him with wide eyes. 'I think I could use a bit of... _tutoring_.'

Mycroft smirked but it was quickly wiped away when both Maggie and Meghan looked at him.

'Are you sure?' Maggie asked her son. Greg nodded. 'And Mycroft, you really don't mind?'

'Of course not, Ms Lestrade,' Mycroft smiled politely.

'Well... I guess that would be okay,' Maggie said. 'As long as Greg's home by nine; he's still grounded.'

'I promise to have him back by nine on the dot,' Mycroft smiled. 'Gregory, I'm tutoring Benjamin in English Literature, Biology, and Chemistry. I'm afraid I don't take PE but I can help you as best I can.'

'Nah, that's fine,' Greg said, trying to keep the smile off his face as he stood (and _really_ hoped his erection had died down). 'BJ takes it, we can... you know, help each other out.'

He tried to look slightly put out by the idea of spending a few hours with Mycroft as he headed to his room. He threw some books in his backpack in case his mum went looking, grabbed his wallet and phone as well as a jacket, and headed back out.

Mycroft was standing by the door chatting to Maggie and gave Greg a polite smile. 'Ready?'

'Mm,' Greg shrugged.

'Be good, Gregory,' Maggie said as she kissed her son's cheek. 'No stuffing around,' she warned.

'Yes, Mum,' Greg sighed. 'Bye, Mrs Holmes.'

'Study hard, boys,' Meghan said as the two left.

Greg grinned stupidly as they walked down the driveway to Mycroft's car. As soon as they'd shut the doors Greg crashed his lips into Mycroft's, sticking his tongue into the other boy's mouth and exploring thoroughly.

Mycroft kissed back just as hard and when they broke apart he smirked.

'You are a _fucking_ genius,' Greg said.

'I told you I had a plan.'

'You beautiful, beautiful, _beautiful_ fucking man!' Greg shouted and kissed him again.

'I aim to please,' Mycroft chuckled, pecking Greg on the lips. 'Now seatbelt on, I have clothes in the boot, and we'll pick Benjamin up before heading over to the lake.'

'The lake?' Greg asked, pulling his seatbelt on. 'You mean Greyson Lake?'

'The one and only,' Mycroft nodded as he started his car.

'What do you do there?' Greg asked.

Mycroft just smiled.


	21. "Tutoring"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: chasingriver

Greg was standing beside the car having a smoke when Mycroft returned with BJ. He'd changed into a tight pair of black jeans, a black shirt that had "The Living End" written across it in red letters, a thin grey hoodie, and red high-topped Chucks. There was eye-liner marking his eyes as well as smudged eyeshadow, and Greg could see a few leather necklaces hanging around his neck and chunky bracelets on his wrists.

BJ was chatting softly to him but cut himself off and raised both eyebrows when he saw Greg.

'What the fuck is Lestrade doing here?'

'He's with me,' Mycroft said, opening the passenger door.

BJ glared at Greg, who blew him a kiss. 'Get in the back, Lestrade,' BJ growled.

'You get in the back,' Greg replied.

'Lestrade-'

' _Masters_ ,' Greg cut in.

'Get in the-'

'BJ, get in the fucking back!' Mycroft snapped. 'We don't have time for your shit, so do as I fucking say!'

Greg grinned triumphantly as BJ scowled, pulling the passenger seat forward so he could climb into the cramped back seat. Greg flicked his cigarette out and climbed in after him, slamming the door shut.

'Buckle up, kiddies!' Greg shouted.

'Fuck you, cunt,' BJ retorted while Mycroft chuckled. 'Seriously, what are you doin' with Lestrade?' BJ demanded.

'Fucking him long and hard,' Mycroft replied.

'Oh that is just _so_ fucking wrong,' BJ groaned.

'Fuck you,' Greg said. 'I'm a sexy piece of man meat.'

'Your man meat's probably five different colours, slut,' BJ grunted.

'Ooh, you shatter my self-esteem,' Greg fake-pouted.

'Would you two fuckers shut up?' Mycroft said.

'Sorry,' Greg apologised in a sweet tone, leaning across to kiss him.

'Fucking hell,' BJ groaned, Greg snickering.

 

{oOo}

 

Greyson Lake had once upon a time been an actual lake. Now it was a giant muddy hole with some murky-brown water in the middle, the occasional bird landing to pick at bugs. It was surrounded on three sides by dense trees, a wooden walkway on the fourth side, as well as an old playground, toilets, and a carpark.

Mycroft parked closest to the trees on the left and he, Greg and BJ climbed out. They left their bags in the car and Mycroft led the way, jumping the small wooden fence and taking the west path.

They walked for a few minutes, BJ tapping away at his phone, before Greg heard soft voices. Suddenly Mycroft turned right, walking down the small leaf-covered hill, BJ following.

Greg followed too and they walked through the trees before the voices got louder. They walked into a large clearing filled with rubbish, over-turned trolleys, dead-trees, and old lawn chairs.

There was a group of seven sitting around a burnt-out pit chatting, and another boy leaning against the tree closest to them smoking.

He was probably Greg's age, with short blonde hair and olive-green eyes. He smiled hesitantly at Greg as Mycroft introduced him.

'This is Craig. Craig, Gregory.'

The blonde shook Greg's hand and Greg frowned, looking him over.

'Do I know you?' Greg asked. 'You look familiar.'

'Um... yeah,' Craig said, blushing slightly.

'Oh,' Greg murmured, realising he must have slept with Craig at some point.

'I gave you a head job a few weeks ago,' Craig admitted.

Mycroft stiffened beside Greg, who said, 'Oh, yeah, I... um... yeah.'

Craig blushed darkly and Greg scratched at his head, shifting from foot to foot awkwardly.

'Yes, well, that's in the past, isn't it?' Mycroft practically growled, glaring at Craig. Greg raised an eyebrow at him but Mycroft gave no comment, instead moving Craig aside and pulling Greg further along.

'You alright?' Greg asked.

'Fine,' Mycroft answered shortly. They reached the main group and everyone turned to look at them. 'Declan, Annie, Patrick, Emma, Justin, Annette, Sally,' Mycroft said, pointing them all out. 'This is Gregory.'

'We know who he is,' Sally grinned. 'So what's up, Lestrade? What are you doin' here with Mikey?'

'Shut it, Donovan,' Greg scowled while Mycroft smirked.

'Just what were you two writing to each other in class?' Sally teased.

'The best way for me to suck Mikey's cock,' Greg retorted.

Sally blushed and everyone else chuckled, Sally turning to scowl at them.

'Myc, I got the alcohol,' Justin- a tall boy with bleached blonde hair- said and stood. He pulled open the cooler he'd been sitting on and flipped it open. Everyone dug around for money and handed it over to Justin while grabbing what alcohol they wanted.

Mycroft directed Greg to one of the over-tuned trolleys and they sat beside each other, Mycroft's arm pressed to Greg's and making the older teen fumble to twist the top of his beer free.

Mycroft smirked and Greg blushed, quickly throwing the cap at Mycroft and taking a long chug of amber liquid.

'So, since when do you and Mikey hang out?' Declan St Claire asked. Greg recognised him from when they'd played cricket together; Declan, and his best mate Patrick, went to St Mary's, but they'd all been on the local cricket team together.

'Well,' Greg mused, tilting his head and making Mycroft chuckle, 'I slept with every gay, bi, and curious guy in the area and thought, 'Well, _fuck_. Unless I do the rounds again, I need some new arse'. So then I saw Mikey-'

'Shut it, fuck face,' Mycroft cut in, flicking Greg's ear and making him pout. ' _I_ decided it was about time to show Mr Lestrade here that he's not the best shag in the area.'

'And...?' three different people asked.

Mycroft wet his lips slowly and leaned forward, everyone else doing the same. He glanced at Greg, looked at everyone, and then said, 'That's a secret.'

Greg giggled as everyone groaned, leaning back and calling Mycroft various names. Mycroft twisted his own beer open and took a swig as everyone got comfortable.

'So, is this where you usually hang out?' Greg asked.

Mycroft shrugged. 'Here, a few other places.'

'How come I've never heard of this?' Greg asked.

''Cause you're a whore,' BJ shot.

Greg inclined an eyebrow. 'Unless I'm mistaken, most of the people here are whores, _Benjamin_.'

The girls all snickered and BJ was interrupted by a new arrival before he could shout. She was a tall girl, about sixteen or seventeen, with wavy brown hair, bright blue eyes, and freckles dusted across her nose. She was wearing black stockings with knee-high boots, a black denim skirt, a tight black shirt with a blood-red tie around her neck, and a ripped black jacket.

She had her eyes glued to a BlackBerry but looked up when she reached them.

'Hey, Anthea,' BJ said, smiling smoothly and leaning back.

Greg rolled his eyes at the clear come-on as the girl- Anthea- blinked at him.

'In your dreams, Benjamin,' she said before turning to Mycroft. She dug around in the black bag she had over one shoulder and pulled out a carton of cigarettes and a lighter.

'Thank you, my dear,' Mycroft smiled before tearing the carton open. He gave Anthea a packet of cigarettes, took one for himself, and pushed the rest into Greg's hands.

'What the-' Greg began, only for Mycroft to cut him off.

'Your mother took yours, so have these.'

'But Mycroft-'

'Just take them,' Mycroft insisted.

'I-'

'I'll have 'em,' Patrick George said, leaning forward.

'Fuck off,' Mycroft said, pointing at him and making Patrick sit down.

Greg sighed but said, 'Thanks,' and put the cigarettes at his feet. Mycroft opened his packet and handed one across, lighting Greg's, Anthea's, and his own cigarette.

Anthea sat on the milk crate beside Mycroft and Greg said, 'I haven't seen you around.'

'I'm home-schooled,' Anthea said. 'My mother works for the Holmes family.'

Greg looked at Mycroft. 'She's Mrs Lander's daughter.'

'Oh, your nanny?'

Mycroft chuckled. 'Say that to Sherlock, I _dare_ you.'

'No fucking way,' Greg said, shaking his head. 'Your brother's a fucking lunatic, he'd kill me.'

'True,' Anthea mused, now tapping at her BlackBerry as she smoked.

Mycroft chuckled and leaned across to kiss Greg's cheek, Greg blushing when he realised everyone was staring. 'Don't worry, Gregory dear,' Mycroft said softly. 'I won't let the mean little Holmes hurt you.'

'Fuck you,' Greg grumbled, nudging Mycroft and getting an arm wrapped around his waist. He blushed darkly and said, 'Shut up!' when Sally and Annie giggled.

'Anyway,' Mycroft said, keeping his arm around Greg. 'Let's play Never Have I Ever.'

'Why?' BJ asked.

'Because I'm fucking bored,' Mycroft said.

'I'm game,' Craig said, leaning forward.

Mycroft scowled at him and Craig blushed, eyes flicking to Greg before looking at his bottle of beer. Annette leaned forward and said, 'Totally, come on.'

The others had soon agreed and Mycroft started. 'Hmm... never have I ever... thought about fucking a teacher.'

Justin, Annette, BJ, Sally and Greg all sipped their drinks and Mycroft turned to Greg.

'Well... um... there was this teacher,' Greg said, 'Mr Peters, he left just before you transferred to our school.'

'Peters, that was _exactly_ who I thought about shagging!' Sally said. 'Oh God was he something.'

'The skinny dude with red hair?' BJ said, wrinkling his nose.

Sally and Greg both nodded. 'There was something about him,' Greg said.

'He was just... God, I woulda stripped at fifteen to let him have his way,' Sally grinned.

'That is _so_ wrong,' Greg said.

'You wanted to shag him too!' Sally shouted.

Greg smirked. 'Yeah, but I'm not a girl.'

'Fuck you, Lestrade,' Sally said, flipping him off.

Greg grabbed his chest, acting wounded, and a few people snickered.

'Anyway, what about you, Masters?' Sally asked.

'Mrs Mallen,' BJ said.

'What the _fuck_?' Greg and Sally shouted.

'She's hot,' BJ shrugged.

'She's a fucking bitch is what she is,' Greg scowled.

'That fucking slut _always_ gives me detentions,' Sally snapped.

'Total bitch,' Greg agreed. 'Caught me fucking smoking the other day, got detentions for two weeks.'

'Well sorry I upset Dickheads Are Us,' BJ said, Justin chuckling. 'Anyway, Justin, Annette?'

Annette wrapped her arm around her boyfriend and said, 'There's a teacher at our school, Miss Charlotte.'

Greg spat beer from his mouth and Mycroft slapped him when liquid dripped down his jeans.

'What, Lestrade, never met a bi chick before?' Justin asked.

Greg coughed and shook his head as Mycroft patted his back.

'I'm bi,' Sally said, 'so yeah, you have.'

'Jesus,' Greg coughed.

'I'm gay,' Anthea joined in, smiling as she blew cigarette smoke above her head.

'Me too,' Mycroft smiled.

'Yeah, yeah, I fucking get it,' Greg grunted, wiping his lips. 'Sorry, sorry.'

'Anyway, Miss Charlotte, we'd _totally_ bang her,' Justin said. 'Annette already said I could if she was there.'

BJ was practically drooling, Declan and Patrick eyeing Annette from where they were sitting.

Craig shook his head and said, 'I really don't get the big deal; why do people like lesbians so much?'

'What are you, a dickhead?' Mycroft demanded. 'You sleep with men, you just answered your own fucking question.'

Craig looked down quickly and Greg couldn't help but smile a little; it seemed Mycroft hated Craig because he'd given Greg a blow job.

'Anthea, your turn,' Mycroft said, taking a swig of beer.

'Never have I ever...' the girl began, still staring at her BlackBerry, 'had sex in a cinema.'

Mycroft, Greg, and Sally all swallowed down a mouthful, Greg and Mycroft smirking at each other.

'I was horny,' Mycroft shrugged.

'The guy totally just started sucking my cock, what was I supposed to do?' Greg said.

'I jumped a chick sitting beside me, she was giving me the eye,' Sally smiled.

'And...?' BJ asked.

'Fuck off, you're not getting details,' Sally scowled. Suddenly her mobile buzzed and she took it out, flipping the screen open. Her eyes flicked up to Anthea, who was smiling, and Sally grinned before texting back.

'Oh that is _so_ not fucking fair!' Justin shouted.

'Text me, Sal, I need to hear it,' Annette said.

Sally nodded and the straight guys in the group groaned.

'Declan,' Anthea nodded at the boy, signalling it was his turn.

'Oh, right,' Declan said, chewing on his lip. 'Never have I ever fucked some random person in my car.'

'Does fucking a bloke against a bike count?' Greg asked while Mycroft, BJ and Annie drank. Declan nodded and Greg swigged his beer. 'What? I was fucking horny and he had a gorgeous arse,' he said when Mycroft chuckled. 'What about you?'

'Some guy in the back of my Jag, I can't remember who,' Mycroft shrugged.

'Mm, shagging in a Jag,' Annie hummed. 'I had sex with my ex-boyfriend in the back of his truck; fucking cold, let me tell you.'

'Well, babe, I'll just have to shag you in the back of my BMW,' Declan smiled.

'Yeah, _that's_ fucking romantic,' Patrick snickered, earning a punch in the arm from his best friend.

'Your turn, babe,' Declan said.

'Never have I ever,' Annie mused, 'thrown up on a stranger.' Everyone in the group drank and Annie said, 'What's wrong with you people?'

'Late partying,' Greg smiled.

'Too much alcohol,' Sally added.

'And you end up puking all over some poor fuck,' BJ finished.

Annie wrinkled her nose and Patrick said, 'My turn, m'kay... um... never have I ever snogged a bloke.'

Everyone apart from Patrick, Justin, BJ and Declan drank, and Mycroft said, 'What a stupid fucking question.'

'Half the people here are chicks,' Greg added.

'And half are fucking gay,' Craig said.

'Well fuck _me_ , I'm sorry,' Patrick said. 'Go on, Emma, you ask a fucking amazing question.'

His girlfriend kissed him on the cheek and sat back, everyone waiting. 'Never have I ever driven while drunk.'

Mycroft and Greg both drank, everyone staring at them.

'Fucking idiots,' BJ said.

'Shut up,' Greg grunted.

'It was only once,' Mycroft hummed, sipping his beer again. 'Justin?'

'Ah... never have I ever... shagged someone,' Justin said, 'ten years older than me.'

Mycroft, Greg and Sally drank, everyone looking at them. 'I shagged a dude who was... probably about twenty-six,' Sally said. 'That's almost ten years older.'

'I shagged a forty-year-old,' Mycroft admitted.

'What the _fuck_?' Greg exclaimed.

Mycroft smiled at him. 'A _hot_ forty-year-old, Gregory.'

'Still, he was like... twenty fucking years older than you.'

'And how old was this guy that _you_ fucked?' Mycroft asked.

'Um... thirty-five?'

Mycroft snorted. 'How is that any better?'

'I didn't say it was any better,' Greg began, 'hey, don't change the fucking subject! My dude was still five years younger than yours!'

'So? It's only five years,' Mycroft shrugged.

'Bull-fucking-shit,' Greg said. 'What was the guy, some fucking sick cunt?'

Mycroft opened his mouth to retort when he realised everyone was staring at him and Greg. 'What?' he asked.

'Nothing,' Emma and Annie grinned, while everyone else smiled slyly.

'We just didn't realise you and Lestrade were dating as well as fucking,' Sally said.

Mycroft jolted and Greg said, 'We're _not_ dating!'

'You sure 'bout that?' Sally asked.

'Yes!' Greg shouted.

'It seems like you are,' Anthea mused, Greg and Mycroft looking at her. 'You fight like all couples.'

'We're _not_ -' Greg began.

'- a couple!' Mycroft finished.

'Ooh, they even finish each other's sentences,' BJ cackled.

'So bloody cute!' Annette said, Emma and Annie clapping.

'Fuck you all, you fucking pricks!' Greg said while Mycroft flipped them off.

'Anyway, my turn,' Annette said, still smiling at Greg and Mycroft. 'Never have I ever hit on someone while on a date with someone else.'

Craig, Patrick, Emma, and BJ drank deeply and Sally said, 'And _that_ is why I stopped shagging you.'

BJ flipped her off and Mycroft looked at Greg. 'You really haven't?'

'Um... I've never been on a real date,' Greg admitted. Justin was passing around fresh beers and Greg took one before saying, 'I've taken blokes to parties before, but I've never hit on anyone else while I'm with them; I don't do that.'

Mycroft's blue eyes swept over Greg's face slowly before he nodded and turned back to face the circle.

'Never have I ever,' Craig said, 'yelled at a teacher.'

Greg, BJ, Sally, and Declan all drank deeply.

'Lestrade practically yelled at Mr Jambrook the other day, didn't you, Greggie?' Sally grinned.

'He was being a fucker,' Greg said dismissively. 'You yelled at Miss Latta, yeah?'

Sally nodded, face frowning as she thought about her and Greg's PE teacher. 'Fucking whore.'

Declan snickered and BJ said, 'Tell me about it. She goes on and on at you for twenty fucking minutes about shit that other people have done. And she isn't even hot.'

'You blokes are all about shagging, aren't you?' Emma mused.

'Look who's talking,' Annie said, nudging her friend.

'Okay, I've got a good one,' Sally said, 'never have I ever been in handcuffs.'

BJ, Patrick, Emma and Mycroft all drank, Greg staring at Mycroft.

'I was arrested a year ago,' BJ said.

'Me too,' Emma said, Patrick nodding that he'd been cuffed by the cops. Mycroft hadn't said anything and everyone looked at him.

'I do _so_ enjoy being tied up,' Mycroft said, smiling coyly.

Greg felt his cock jump in his jeans and had to look away when Mycroft's bright blue eyes flicked to him.

'My turn, huh?' BJ said, ignoring the lust-filled look Mycroft was giving Greg. 'Never have I ever... taken drugs- and pot doesn't count.'

Greg scratched at his arm and kept his eyes on the ground as he took a sip, Mycroft doing the same beside him.

'No fucking way,' Sally said, eyes wide on Greg. 'What'd you do?'

'Um... I tried ecstasy a few times,' Greg admitted. 'Not my thing, I ended up throwing up everywhere once and getting a ride to the hospital to get my stomach pumped. My mum nearly fucking murdered me and now she does searches of my room every few weeks.'

Everyone's eyes turned to Mycroft. 'Cocaine,' he said.

'Seriously?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded. 'I used for about a year, just before I moved here. I got clean, though, I didn't like how it messed with my head.'

Greg kept staring at Mycroft, who closed the distance between them and pressed a soft kiss to Greg's lips.

'Honestly, Gregory,' he whispered. 'I _have_ stopped, I don't have a problem anymore.'

'M'kay,' Greg murmured, kissing him back.

They didn't break apart until BJ kicked Greg and said, 'Your turn, fucker.'

Greg scowled at him but swigged back on his beer and chewed his lip. 'Never have I ever... had a threesome.'

'Shut the fuck up,' Sally said, 'you've never had a fucking threesome?'

'Nope,' Greg shook his head.

Sally stared at him before drinking from her beer, Mycroft, Justin, Annette, and Anthea all doing the same.

'Me and Annette fucked this chick we knew together,' Justin whistled. 'Best fucking night _ever_.'

'I shagged a chick and a bloke too,' Sally nodded.

'Two girls,' Anthea said. 'Yesterday, actually.'

'Hot damn,' BJ grinned, eyeing Anthea.

'I like tits, Benjamin,' Anthea hummed, tapping at her BlackBerry.

'If BJ gains some weight he'll have tits,' Greg snickered, dodging a smack from BJ and ending up on Mycroft's lap.

Mycroft smiled and wrapped both arms around his waist, Greg blushing brightly when the others snickered. 'I shagged two guys; one in front of me, one behind,' Mycroft said. 'The experience was _very_ disappointing.'

Greg smiled at that and said, 'Your turn again, Mikey.'

They did a few more rounds, learning some very embarrassing stuff about each other. BJ was the one who said, 'Never have I ever shagged a mate,' forcing Greg, Mycroft, Anthea and Sally to all drink.

'Well, I haven't actually done it,' Anthea admitted, blue eyes flicking to Sally. 'But I plan to.'

Sally winked at her and the straight guys of the group practically burst right there.

'You, Lestrade?' Sally asked.

'Oh, well...' Greg blushed, shuffling about on Mycroft's lap. 'I shagged Dimmock.'

'You shagged _Michael Dimmock_?' BJ demanded.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, ''bout a year ago.'

'Why?' Sally asked.

'Well, he thought he was bi, or maybe gay, so he talked me into letting him fuck me,' Greg said. 'We did, he realised he was bi, and... yeah.'

'So, what, just the once?' Sally asked.

Greg nodded. 'He's an awesome bloke, but definitely not my type.'

Sally nodded at that and said, 'Mikey?'

'Gregory,' Mycroft smirked and bit Greg's neck, maybe him groan and blush at the same time.

'Then... I guess I have to change my answer to... to Dimmock _and_ Mikey,' Greg gasped when Mycroft had stopped biting him.

Mycroft just smiled and finished his beer.


	22. Takes Me Nowhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Takes Me Nowhere by The Offspring
> 
> **Author's Note:** Sorry this took so long, there was a mixup with my beta, and I got caught up writing Wholock and reading NCIS stories. Also, sorry it's taking so long for Greg and Mycroft to actually get together; I never meant for the story to be this long, and I keep adding more and more stuff. Plus the chapters are shorter than what I usually write. I promise they _will_ get together, just have some patience, my lovelies.
> 
> Anywho, enjoy!
> 
> {Dreamer}

About two hours later Sally suggested a game of truth or dare. BJ immediately shouted, 'Sal, truth or dare?'

'Dare,' Sally said.

'Kiss Anthea,' BJ said, pointing at the other girl.

Anthea shrugged and stood, crossing to Sally and grabbing her by the back of the neck. She pressed her lips to Sally's and Sally started kissing back, her tongue soon snaking out and pushing into Anthea's mouth.

BJ, Justin, Declan, and Patrick were all staring with open-mouths, Greg, Mycroft and Craig wrinkling their noses. Annette, Emma and Annie chuckled as the two girls snogged before Anthea drew back.

'Satisfied?' Anthea asked. BJ just nodded dumbly. 'My turn,' Anthea smiled, turning to stare at Greg and Mycroft. 'Truth or dare, Mycroft?'

Mycroft smiled. 'Dare.'

'I dare you to kiss Gregory,' Anthea smiled.

'What a bullshit dare!' BJ said. 'They've been sticking each other's tongues down their throats all fucking day!'

'A proper kiss, Mycroft,' Anthea continued. 'Until I say stop.'

'Yes, my dear,' Mycroft said. He grabbed Greg around the waist and made him turn until the older boy was straddling Mycroft's lap. Greg blushed as Mycroft pushed a hand through his hair and tugged him down.

He crushed his lips to Greg's and Greg groaned, winding his arms around Mycroft's neck. He'd never kissed Mycroft in front of this many people, but he quickly forgot about them when Mycroft's tongue snaked into his mouth, tongue-piercing sliding against his tastebuds and making him shiver.

The kiss was slow and gentle, but still hot and passionate and everything Greg had come to expect when Mycroft's lips pressed against his own. Mycroft's arms were tight around him, one splayed against his lower back, the other rubbing up and down his side.

Greg's own arms were hooked around Mycroft's neck, keeping the other teenager firmly against his chest as their tongues licked and twirled together, heads tilted and eyes closed.

When Greg started rutting forward, trying to get some type of friction against his aching groin, Mycroft's hands dropped to squeeze his arse through his tight jeans, dragging Greg forward.

And then someone said, ' _Damn_ ,' and Mycroft remembered where they were.

'Stop,' Anthea finally said, seeing that Mycroft had come back to himself.

It was with regret that Mycroft drew back, face flushed and breathing heavy. Greg blinked at him stupidly, cheeks pink, lips swollen and glistening in the soft light flittering through the trees.

'Truth or dare, Craig?' Mycroft asked without looking away from a slightly-stunned Greg.

'Truth?' Craig tried, wilting slightly when Mycroft's ice-blue eyes turned to him.

'Did you really suck off those two straight guys from Artemis Catholic School?' Mycroft asked as he made Greg shift so the older teen was still sitting on him, legs dangling over the edge of Mycroft's lap.

Craig blushed darkly and stared at the ground as everyone's eyes turned to him. 'Y-Yes,' he whispered.

'Oh, you fucking slut!' BJ shouted. 'You're worse than Lestrade!'

Craig pouted and sipped his beer, Mycroft smirking as Greg shook his head.

'Um... BJ, truth or dare?' Craig mumbled.

'Truth,' BJ said.

'Why did you and Sally _really_ stop shagging?' Craig asked.

BJ groaned and Sally smirked at him triumphantly. 'You fucking prick,' BJ scowled. 'Sal said she was sick of my cock and wanted something bigger, so she was goin' back to shagging chicks.'

'To Sally!' Anthea shouted, raising her Smirnoff.

'To Sally!' everyone else chorused while BJ threw a rock at Craig, who ducked and hit the dirt.

'My turn again,' BJ mused. 'Anyone got any?'

'Truth or dare, Lestrade?' Sally asked.

'Um... truth,' Greg said, still feeling breathless from Mycroft's kiss.

'What were you and Mikey writing to each other in English Lit?'

Greg sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'I was... um... dirty notes.'

'Seriously?' BJ asked.

Greg blushed as Sally said, 'What _exactly_?'

Greg groaned. 'You're a fucker, you know that?' Sally grinned. 'I was reminding Mycroft of how I... sucked his cock when we skived school a week ago,' Greg admitted, 'and... um... when he gave me a hand job at one of BJ's parties.'

'No _way_ ,' Sally gaped.

Greg blushed as everyone else chuckled.

'Well that explains Jambrook's reaction,' Sally continued, shaking her head and taking another sip of beer.

Mycroft smiled and kissed Greg's cheek before saying, 'Whose turn?'

 

{oOo}

 

They sat drinking, swapping embarrassing stories, and generally fucking around until it hit seven. People started disappearing home until it was just Greg, Mycroft and Anthea, BJ having got a lift from Justin and his girlfriend.

'Hang on,' Greg said suddenly, looking at Mycroft. 'How are we getting home? You've been drinking.'

Mycroft had only had three beers but said, 'You're not due home until nine, so another two hours and I'll be right to drive.'

'You sure?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded and Anthea stood, stretching and ruffling her wavy hair. 'I better get home before Mother wonders where I am.' She kissed Mycroft's cheek and said, 'It was nice meeting you, Gregory.'

'Likewise,' Greg smiled, waving as Anthea disappeared through the trees. He finished his beer and said, 'So...'

'We can wait in my car, it's getting a bit cold,' Mycroft said.

Greg nodded and accepted Mycroft's hand, letting the auburn-haired teen pull him to his feet. Mycroft didn't let go as they walked through the trees and Greg felt a stupid grin tug at his lips as Mycroft's fingers linked with his own. He was glad it was dark and Mycroft couldn't see him smiling like an idiot.

They reached the Jag and Mycroft pushed the button on his keys, opening the door for Greg and saying, 'After you, Gregory dear.'

'You're such a girl,' Greg chuckled as he pulled the seat forward and slid into the back.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow but joined him. 'You're the one letting me open doors for you and _I'm_ the girl?'

'Yup,' Greg said before tugging Mycroft forward.

Mycroft gasped as he suddenly found himself lying atop Greg, Greg's legs warm and firm either side of him.

'Hi there,' Greg grinned.

'Hello,' Mycroft got out before Greg's lips were pressed against his own. Mycroft moaned and shuffled further up the seat until he and Greg were slotted together, Greg's legs wrapped firmly around his waist.

When Mycroft rutted forward Greg moaned, pushing his hips off the leather seat. Normally Mycroft had more control but snogging Greg so much that day- without touching him _properly_ \- had snapped his self-control.

So he grinded himself against the other teenager, Greg groaning loudly against his lips. Greg threaded one hand through Mycroft's hair and twisted hard, pulling Mycroft against him as he licked into the younger boy's mouth.

Mycroft's tongue joined his, licking broad strokes, teeth clacking together and lips swallowing each moan and grunt they gave. Mycroft's fingers suddenly dug into Greg's hips, pulling him forward, crashing their trapped cocks together.

'Fuck, Mycroft!' Greg cried out.

It just made Mycroft move faster, the car rocking with each thrust, the leather creaking beneath them, the two teenagers mashing their mouths together and creating wet sucking sounds.

Mycroft felt Greg's body tense and then the older teen cried out again, voice rough against Mycroft's ear, breathing heaving as he came in his jeans.

And then Mycroft tumbled over the edge with him, only five, maybe seven minutes after they'd started. Mycroft moaned as he buried his face in Greg's neck, positive he'd never come that quickly before in his life.

Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft's back and pressed soft, gentle kisses to his cheek and jaw, Mycroft humming above him.

'Can't believe I came in my trousers,' Greg groaned.

Mycroft chuckled and drew back, kissing Greg quickly before saying, 'Shove over.'

The backseat of Mycroft's Jag wasn't the best place to snuggle, but they tried their hardest. Mycroft was shoved up against the back of the seat with Greg wrapped around him, their legs twined and bodies pressed tight to each other.

'So... um...' Greg stammered after a few minutes of silence. Mycroft just waited silently. 'C-Cocaine?' Greg finally got out.

Mycroft sighed and scratched at his head, Greg shuffling about to look at him. 'I was young, stupid,' Mycroft admitted. 'When I first realised I liked guys, I started hanging out with people who didn't go to my school; people who didn't know I was Mycroft Holmes.

'It was... fun,' Mycroft said, 'and so liberating, to be around people who didn't judge me because of my name or my intelligence. I was just so fucking happy to finally be... _me_.'

He paused, wetting his lips and clearly trying to organise his thoughts.

'You know how it goes,' Mycroft finally continued. 'You start drinking because the people around you are. You find that fun, freeing, just... amazing. And when you're drunk you kiss people, you maybe lose your virginity even if you weren't ready-'

'Mycroft,' Greg jolted, eyes widening.

'Let me finish, please?' Mycroft asked. Greg pressed his lips together and nodded. 'You do things you're not ready for,' Mycroft said softly, 'you try drugs because they're right there and you're already drunk, the cool guys are telling you to, they say it'll take your problems away. And then... then...'

He swallowed thickly before continuing.

'Then you stop just snorting it at parties. You start taking it at home just to get through dinners where your father barely acknowledges your existence, where your mother is more interested in re-decorating her bedroom than actually talking to you. You start taking it at school to keep up the fake persona you've spent years creating.' He took a deep breath. 'You take it until your brother finds you overdosing on your bedroom floor and has to call an ambulance.'

'Oh God,' Greg choked out, wrapping his arms around Mycroft and pulling him in. 'Mycroft-'

'I'm clean,' Mycroft mumbled against Greg's chest. 'Sherlock got me clean, I haven't-'

'Shut up, okay?' Greg cut in. 'Just... just shut up, Mycroft.' He hugged him tighter and ran a hand over his back, Mycroft melting into his touch.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft choked out, breathing heavily against Greg's chest. 'I was so stupid, I did so many stupid things, and-'

'Shh,' Greg murmured, rubbing Mycroft's back and kissing the top of his head. 'It's in the past, yeah?'

'Yes.'

'So... it doesn't matter now,' Greg continued. 'Just... just don't do it, okay? I can't lose you, Mycroft, I just... I...'

Mycroft pulled back before pressing his lips to Greg's, the two exchanging soft, gentle kisses that told all the feelings they weren't ready to speak out loud.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft repeated when they broke apart.

'Don't apologise, not for this,' Greg said. 'I did stupid stuff too, Myc. I took ecstasy because I thought it was cool, I thought it made me cool. We all make mistakes.'

Greg rubbed at the tears that had suddenly appeared in Mycroft's eyes and kissed him again before wrapping his arms tightly around the younger boy. Once again Mycroft melted into the touch, and both thought about how right it felt; having the other, right beside them, close and safe.

 

{oOo}

 

Mycroft pulled up outside Greg's and smiled when the other teenager sighed. 'Something wrong?'

'Nah,' Greg said quickly, though the faint blush to his cheeks told Mycroft otherwise. 'So, um... thanks for tutoring me.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'Maybe next time I'll tutor you in an actual bed.'

'Mm, you'd better keep that promise,' Greg smiled. They leaned over the console, lips soft and gentle as they kissed. Mycroft sighed when Greg pulled back. 'So, um... I'll see you at school?'

Mycroft nodded as Greg climbed out of the car, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. 'Goodnight, Gregory.'

''Night, Mycroft,' Greg said before shutting the door. He stood watching as Mycroft pulled back onto the road and sighed again when the car disappeared around the corner. He couldn't believe it was possible to miss someone this much.

But it was. 'Cause he missed Mycroft Holmes a whole heap.


	23. Welcome To My Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Welcome To My Life by Simple Plan
> 
>  **Author's Note:** Sorry this took so long, I ended up staying up two days and my brain goes fuzzy. Also, this chapter is a bit short, but it's Mycroft's POV, which a lot of you have wanted. So we get an insight into Mycroft's life :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

Mycroft Holmes groaned as he stepped out of his Jaguar. Okay, so Mycroft was no lightweight when it came to drinking, but three bottles of beer and rubbing yourself against Greg Lestrade on an empty stomach was a really bad idea.

Mycroft had parked in the smaller garage to the right of Holmes Manor, and rubbed his eyes as he leaned against the car, trying to collect himself.

Suddenly the door behind him opened and Mycroft whirled around, but breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Mrs Lander.

'Mycroft,' the woman said.

'No trouble, I hope?' Mycroft asked as he pulled out his wallet.

'No,' Mrs Lander shook her head as Mycroft pulled out fifty quid. He handed it over and Mrs Lander breathed in deeply, eyes narrowing when she smelled alcohol.

'What?' Mycroft demanded.

Mrs Lander bit her lip, blue eyes darting up to Mycroft's face. 'You were at Greyson Lake.'

He sighed, head starting to ache. 'Not this again.'

'Mycroft, it's not healthy, what you're doing,' Mrs Lander said. 'And the people you associate with-'

'Are just that; _associates_ ,' Mycroft cut in, rubbing his throbbing temples. 'Not one of them are actual friends, besides maybe Anthea, okay? I don't trust them with anything other than purchasing me alcohol. So stop worrying.'

'Mycroft-'

'I can do what I fucking want, alright?' Mycroft growled. 'I'm seventeen; I think I deserve to be a bit wild, don't you?'

'Wild, yes, but you're fast becoming out of control.' Mrs Lander bit her lip. 'I don't want to see you go downhill again.'

The pounding in Mycroft's temples was reaching an all-time high, fast making his patience wear thin. 'I _told_ you that I have no need for the cocaine anymore, alright? I don't need you to worry.'

'Mycroft-'

Mycroft was already walking around the house, leaving Mrs Landers standing in the garage beside his Jag. He walked through the kitchen entrance, ignoring the two men bustling about making dinner. He sneaked upstairs to his room and found Sherlock sitting on his bed.

'How's your head?' Sherlock asked loudly.

Mycroft winced and threw a glare at his brother when Sherlock giggled. 'None of your concern,' Mycroft said as he pulled open the door to his walk-in-wardrobe.

'Mother asked where you were twice, Father too,' Sherlock said as Mycroft changed.

Mycroft poked his head through the doorway. 'Father's home?'

Sherlock nodded. 'Has been since I got home from school.'

'I'm sorry, Sherlock.'

Sherlock shrugged. 'He wouldn't have realised I was here if Mother hadn't pointed me out. It seemed to take him a second to remember who _you_ were.'

Mycroft sighed as he changed. To the rest of the world Siger Holmes was a brilliant, rich, wonderful family man. To the Holmes boys he was a stranger who didn't know them. Siger had never wanted children, had simply done what was expected of him; marry a well-bred woman, spit out a few kids, and make millions of pounds.

The worst thing was that Siger wasn't a _horrible_ man. He didn't hit Mycroft and Sherlock, he didn't even yell. He was just... blank when it came to them, like they were cats rather than sons. Mycroft had glossed over his father when talking to Greg all those weeks ago. If Siger found out his son was gay he'd most likely respond, 'Mycroft who?'

That's if he didn't decide that child abuse was fun. If there was one thing Siger Holmes _definitely_ was, it was homophobic. They didn't talk about "those people" in the house. Maybe that's why Siger blanked on his sons. Deep down he knew that they were both gay.

Mycroft snorted as he tugged a sweater on. _Universal payback,_ he mused as he exited the wardrobe and went to the bathroom. _You hate gay people? Here, have two queer sons._

Mycroft combed his hair back, took off his makeup, and made sure he looked presentable before downing a few painkillers.

Sherlock was gone and Mycroft went downstairs alone, soon finding his mother, father, and brother in the dining room.

'Good evening, Mycroft,' Meghan smiled.

'Mummy,' Mycroft nodded, kissing her on the cheek before taking his spot. The butler, Mr Andrew, came in and served the soup.

Siger hadn't looked up from his paper and Mycroft knew he wouldn't unless Meghan spoke to him so he sipped his soup slowly, stomach rolling from all the alcohol he'd ingested. Sherlock was staring at him from across the table and Mycroft pointedly ignored him.

'How was your study session?' Meghan asked.

'Fine, Mummy,' Mycroft responded.

'That Lestrade boy didn't give you any trouble, did he?' Meghan asked.

Before Mycroft could respond, Siger looked up. 'Lestrade boy?'

'Gregory Lestrade, Margaret Lestrade's son,' Meghan told her husband. 'He's a troublemaker, that one.'

'He's not that bad, just a little rough around the edges,' Mycroft said.

As usual, Siger ignored him. 'Why are you talking about the boy?' Siger demanded. He only knew who Greg was because the teenager had been openly gay since he was fourteen.

'Mycroft tutored him this afternoon with Benjamin,' Meghan explained.

Siger's cold grey eyes swivelled to rest on his eldest son. Mycroft felt his heart clench painfully. There was no love there, no joy or happiness or pride, just... emptiness.

'And, what, _exactly_ , are you doing with him?' Siger demanded.

'I was simply tutoring him, Father,' Mycroft answered. 'Gregory came to me a few days ago and asked if I could help him with his schoolwork. I said yes because I enjoy helping people.'

Siger snorted and went back to his paper. 'You'd do well to stay away from him, Mycroft. That boy's a fairy.'

Mycroft's fingers tightened around his spoon, knuckles turning white. To Siger and Meghan he looked calm and collected. To Sherlock he looked like a teen ready to explode.

'I think I can judge people for myself, Father,' Mycroft said calmly.

As usual, Siger had already tuned him out, and Mycroft scowled at his soup. Meghan was oblivious to the tension at the table- as usual- and started chatting to Sherlock about his own work and John Watson. Siger only made a noise to comment that John was bad news (he was under the assumption that John was a "fairy" too).

The rest of dinner passed in relative silence apart from Meghan's never ending prattling about various gossip, fashion, and how she was re-decorating the west wing. Siger nodded and hummed every so often, and Mycroft and Sherlock were silent as they ate.

Finally Siger disappeared to his study after kissing Meghan's cheek and Mycroft stood, throwing his napkin down and storming from the room.

'What's the matter with your brother?' Meghan asked Sherlock.

The teenager glared at her and stood. 'Nothing, Mummy,' he said stiffly, throwing his own napkin down. 'Not a damn thing.'

'Really, Sherlock, there's no need for such words,' Meghan said as her youngest left. 'Honestly, teenagers today,' she said before standing to go and call a friend and continue her gossiping.

 

{oOo}

 

Sherlock found Mycroft sprawled across the sofa in his bedroom. His head was tipped back on the armrest, eyes closed and breathing heavy.

Sherlock chewed on his bottom lip before crossing the room and tugging at Mycroft's sleeves. The elder Holmes opened his eyes slowly and looked down, Sherlock too staring at the smooth, pale skin that was revealed. Sherlock breathed a sigh of relief and Mycroft scoffed.

'I'm not using, Sherlock.'

'I know,' Sherlock mumbled. 'I'd be able to tell. But... I like to make sure.'

Mycroft sighed and tugged Sherlock forward until the younger teenager was sitting on the sofa beside him. He wrapped one arm around Sherlock's body and Sherlock snuggled into him.

'I'm sorry I make you worry,' Mycroft said. 'I'm supposed to be the strong one.'

'You don't have to be, not with me,' Sherlock said. 'I don't mind, My.'

Mycroft smiled, brushing a hand through his brother's hair.

'How was the lake?'

'The same as usual,' Mycroft said.

Sherlock pulled back, blue eyes locking onto Mycroft's own. 'Was Lestrade there?'

Mycroft hesitated before saying, 'Yes.'

Sherlock frowned. 'Why are you doing this to yourself?'

'I'm not doing anything,' Mycroft said, turning away.

'Yes you are,' Sherlock said hotly. 'You'll get hurt and then what? What if you go back-'

'I'll _never_ go back, Sherlock,' Mycroft cut in sternly. 'I promise you I won't.'

'Junkies lie,' Sherlock stated. 'You taught me that, remember?'

Mycroft closed his eyes to the memories that assaulted him; late nights, random hook-ups, alcohol and pot and cigarettes and Sherlock rubbing his back as he puked and detoxed.

'I promised,' Mycroft said without opening his eyes. 'I never break a promise, Lockie, you know that.'

Sherlock wrapped his arms around Mycroft's middle and squeezed tightly. 'I don't wanna lose you, My,' he whispered. 'I can't handle the world without you, it's too hard.'

'I'm not going anywhere, Lockie,' Mycroft said softly, rubbing his brother's back. Sherlock sniffed. 'Besides, you have John.'

Sherlock shot back, blue eyes narrowed and face flushed pink. Mycroft smirked and Sherlock said, 'You're a prick.'

Mycroft just smiled.

'Would you _stop_ with that?' Sherlock demanded.

'How is my teasing you about John any different to you teasing me about Gregory?' Mycroft asked.

Sherlock scowled. 'I'm not shagging John.'

'Not yet.'

'MY!' Sherlock punched his brother in the arm and Mycroft chuckled. 'We're only thirteen.'

'I lost my virginity at fourteen,' Mycroft reminded.

'We're not all disgusting sex-maniacs,' Sherlock muttered.

Mycroft sighed and leaned back, slouching against the sofa. 'True,' he said, eyes roaming over Sherlock. 'You're a far better person than I am, little brother.'

'No I'm not.'

'Yes you are,' Mycroft said. 'You'll learn from my mistakes; you won't make them.'

'You can't know that.'

'I can.'

Sherlock pouted. 'Stop it!'

'Make me.'

Sherlock lunged at his brother and the two went tumbling off the sofa, hitting the floor with a _thud_. Sherlock bit Mycroft's arm and the elder Holmes shouted before digging his fingers into Sherlock's ribs and making him squeal and flop onto his back.

Mycroft kept tickling him and Sherlock screeched, 'Stop it- AHAHA- stop it, Mycroft! Hehehe, fuck you!'

Mycroft grinned as Sherlock squirmed about on the floor, long limbs flailing all over the place. When he whacked Mycroft in the crotch Mycroft groaned and dropped onto his back, wincing and cupping himself as Sherlock panted beside him.

'You're... a... cock,' Sherlock panted.

'Fuck you too,' Mycroft replied with a groan.

The bedroom door was pushed open and Siger Holmes stuck his head in. 'What the hell is going on in here?'

Mycroft and Sherlock immediately scrambled to their feet, both looking down with their hands behind their backs.

'Sorry, sir,' Sherlock mumbled.

'We apologise for the disruption,' Mycroft added.

Siger blinked, as though surprised to find Mycroft in his own bedroom. 'Well... keep it down,' he said, turning away.

'Yes, Father,' the brothers responded in unison before the door slammed shut.

As soon as they were alone Sherlock stuck his middle finger up at the door and Mycroft smiled.

They sat back on the floor before lying beside each other, sprawled across the thick carpet and staring at the ceiling.

'My?'

'Mm?'

Sherlock bit his lip before saying, 'Be careful, yeah?'

'I always am.'

'Not with Lestrade you aren't,' Sherlock said, making Mycroft turn. 'Just... be careful.'

Mycroft opened his mouth before closing it again and looking away. After a few silent minutes he said, 'I will.'

Sherlock nodded in satisfaction and they fell into silence again, just staring at the ceiling, their brains humming in the background.


	24. Clubbing Holmes Style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Author's Note:** Okay, so I've changed Mycroft's car because I realised the backseat was too small for serious frottage. He now drives a Jaguar XJ, which is a four-door and can be bought in dark green. For an image just Google "Jaguar XJ" and you'll see what I mean. I tried to change previous chapters but AO3 won't let me because of formatting issues. Hopefully one day I can manage to change them :)
> 
> Also, I love Green Day, Fall Out Boy, and The Offspring. The views expressed by Greg and Mycroft are entirely their own :)  
> Anywho, enjoy!
> 
> {Dreamer}

Maggie still hadn't lifted Greg's grounding so besides school and work he was in lockdown. Dimmock was allowed in, though, so Greg got to chat and spend some time on his best mate's computer.

The best part was that Mycroft snuck in every second night, the two making out and touching each other on Greg's bed. Maggie almost caught them three times, and was starting to think her son was obsessed with touching himself.

As long as Greg got to touch _Mycroft_ , he didn't care what his mum thought.

The second to last day of Greg's grounding (if his mum stuck to the "two weeks" she'd picked) Greg was watching porn on his phone. Mycroft hadn't snuck in the last three nights and they'd only managed some snogging at school.

Greg was used to getting laid every weekend, but he hadn't had a shag since he'd started this thing with Mycroft (because for some reason the other teenager _still_ wouldn't fuck Greg). So he had to get relief _somehow_ , and though having a firm body against his own was great, his hand would do for now.

Greg was just getting to the best part of the video when a voice from beside him said, 'Need some help with that?'

Greg shrieked and jumped, tumbling off his chair and hitting the floor with a painful _thud_. He scrambled onto his knees and looked up, seeing Mycroft leaning against his windowsill snickering.

'What the fuck?' he demanded, heart hammering in his chest.

'I just asked if you wanted a hand,' Mycroft said.

'I nearly had a fucking heart attack!' Greg snarled.

Mycroft just smirked. 'So you _don't_ want a hand?' he asked, gesturing at Greg's crotch.

Greg scowled and tucked his erection back into his pyjama bottoms. 'See if I ever let you touch my dick again, you fucker!'

'Oh, Gregory, I'm hurt,' Mycroft pouted, laying his palm against his chest.

Greg opened his mouth to retort when there was a knock on the door. He shot to his feet and Mycroft disappeared just as the door opened.

'Greg, I heard a shout,' Maggie said, stepping into the room. 'You okay?'

Greg nodded while quickly fiddling with his phone, closing the website without looking at it. 'Yeah, just fine,' he nodded, blushing brightly.

'Are you sure?' Maggie asked.

'Yeah, Mum,' he nodded again. 'I just... er...' he glanced at the window, 'thought I saw a mouse.'

'A mouse?'

Greg smiled weakly.

'Okay...' Maggie said, 'well I'm going to bed, so try to keep the noise down, mm?'

''Kay,' Greg said. 'Sorry, Mum.'

'Night, sweetie,' Maggie said, crossing to kiss his cheek before leaving.

She shut the bedroom door behind her and Greg stood by his desk, heart threatening to jump out of his chest.

'A mouse?' Mycroft said, re-appearing at the window.

'Fuck you,' Greg hissed, walking across to the other teenager, Mycroft climbing up to sit on the windowsill, feet thumping into the wall.

Mycroft was wearing a tight black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black waistcoat with red-pinstripes, and a red tie. His trousers were black leather ( _Oh god does his arse look fuckable in leather_ , Greg thought) and there were red high-topped Chucks on his feet. Greg looked over the thick black and red bracelets on Mycroft's wrists before his eyes darted up to the usual eyeliner-marked eyes with dark red eyeshadow smudged over the lids.

'What the fuck are you doing here?' Greg asked when he'd stopped leering.

'I'm bored, let's go out,' Mycroft said, leaning forward.

Greg frowned. 'Out?'

'Out, as in "away from here",' Mycroft said. 'Come on, there's an awesome club not far from here.'

'What?'

'There's a club I know of that will sell us alcohol, has good music, and that we can be at in about an hour,' Mycroft said.

'What? You can't be serious.' Mycroft sighed. 'Mycroft, it's almost ten.'

'Yes, and unless you get the fuck dressed right now we're going to be late,' Mycroft said.

'You want me to sneak out on a school night?' Greg asked.

Mycroft tisked. 'What kind of hoodlum are you?'

'One who doesn't use the word "hoodlum"?' Greg suggested. When Mycroft scowled, Greg looked at his closed bedroom door, biting his lip.

He knew his mum hated that he drank, smoked, and basically fucked around, but she gave him his space and privacy because he made sure to do well in school and be nice when the occasion called for it. He didn't think she'd appreciate him sneaking out in the middle of the night.

But... it was _Mycroft_ , and he was dressed in black leather fucking trousers. And... it was just one night, right? It didn't matter that he'd be tired tomorrow, not when Mycroft was offering good music, drinks, and maybe a shag.

So he chewed on his lip for a few more seconds before saying, 'Fine, just give me a minute.'

Mycroft smirked and climbed back out the window, leaving Greg to quickly tug on a pair of tight black jeans with a few rips, a silver-studded belt, a black and red striped shirt, and a black jacket. He grabbed his wallet, cigarettes, and phone, and made sure to ruffle his bed up a bit so if his mum came investigating, it looked like he was in the bathroom or something.

Greg climbed out his bedroom window and headed towards the street, wondering where Mycroft had disappeared to. He stepped out onto the footpath and looked around, spotting Mycroft's posh Jaguar parked at the end of the street. He hurried towards it, not wanting the neighbours to see him, and quickly climbed into the car.

Mycroft turned the car on as Greg pulled his seatbelt on, doing it up with a click while Mycroft pulled onto the road.

'So where are we going?' Greg asked.

'To a club I own,' Mycroft answered.

Greg nodded along before frowning. 'Wait, what?'

'I said a club I own.'

'Before you said it was an awesome club you know of.'

'Yes, well it _is_ awesome and I _do_ know of it,' Mycroft smirked.

'You own a club?'

'I _did_ just-'

'Mycroft!'

Mycroft chuckled and glanced at Greg, who was scowling. 'Fine, fine; yes, I own a club. I bought it a year ago and I'm finally pulling in good money. I visit every two weeks to make sure everything's running smoothly, okay?'

'You... you _own_ a club?' Greg gaped. Mycroft smirked. 'Why?'

'The previous owners went out of business and I purchased it,' Mycroft explained. 'There isn't a club in the area that caters to people of the goth, punk, alternative rock, and emo mind-set. So I bought it, furnished it myself, and run everything. I'm in charge of hiring and firing the bartenders, the security guards and bouncers, as well as the DJs and live bands.'

'Where the fuck did you get the money to do all that?' Greg asked.

'Gregory, please,' Mycroft tisked. 'My family is rich. I was given access to my trust fund when I turned fifteen. The Holmes motto is, "If you can't stand on your own two legs you aren't a Holmes". It's been a tradition in my family since my great-grandfather; we're given access to our entire inheritance on our fifteenth birthday. If we blow it all, tough luck. If we don't, you become as rich as my father is.'

'So... so it's not just your _family_ that's loaded,' Greg realised, Mycroft smiling. 'You are too.'

'Correct.'

'You're _actually_ rich,' Greg said.

'Correct again.'

'You could leave home and buy your own fucking house.'

'Are we playing Twenty Facts?' Mycroft asked. 'I must say it's slightly less fun than Twenty Questions.'

'Holy fucking hell,' Greg gaped. 'I can't believe... I mean, yeah, I knew you were rich, but I didn't realise that _you_ -'

'Were rich, yes,' Mycroft cut in. 'Let's stop the repetitive conversation now, hmm?'

'So... did you buy this car yourself?' Greg asked, glancing around at the interior. He'd always figured that Mummy and Daddy had bought Mycroft his car. Now...

'Yes, I did,' Mycroft nodded.

'Wow,' Greg gaped again. 'Um... just how rich _are_ you?' When Mycroft raised an eyebrow, Greg said, 'I don't mean, like, an exact figure. Just... you know, a general sum.'

Mycroft smiled and looked back at the road. 'Well,' he mused, 'since my fifteenth birthday I've quadrupled the money given to me. I own fifteen small businesses, three night clubs, and have shares in a number of large corporations, websites, and franchises.'

'Jesus.'

'Relax, Gregory,' Mycroft smiled. 'Money doesn't make you happy.'

'Oh, I dunno,' Greg said, stretching and folding his arms. 'I reckon a giant fucking bathtub full of melted chocolate would make me pretty happy. And how do I get that? Money.'

'Why would you want your bathtub full of melted chocolate?' Mycroft asked.

'Why the fuck not?' Greg responded.

Mycroft chuckled and shook his head as Greg started looking through his CD collection.

'What the _fuck_ is this?'

Mycroft turned to look at the CD Greg was holding. 'A compact disc?'

'No, this is fucking Fall Out Boy,' Greg said. 'What the fuck are you doing with a Fall Out Boy CD?'

'I like Fall Out Boy.'

Greg's mouth dropped open. 'Oh my god, you fucking poofter.'

'May I remind you that you're also gay?' Mycroft said.

'Oh _hell_ no, I am _not_ this gay,' Greg said, waving the CD around.

'What's wrong with Fall Out Boy?'

'Um... _everything_?'

Mycroft shook his head. 'I could say the same thing about some of _your_ taste in music.'

Greg sniffed. 'What about my taste?'

'The Offspring, Gregory?'

'Don't you _dare_ compare The Offspring to Fall Out fucking Boy!' Greg practically shrieked, making Mycroft smirk. 'The Offspring is an awesome fucking band, thank you very much! It's punk and alternative rock at its fucking best.'

'Come now, The Offspring is hardly the best punk band around,' Mycroft tutted. 'Green Day is far better than The Offspring.'

'Okay, I'll agree to that because Green Day's the best fucking band ever,' Greg said, 'but don't change the fucking subject!'

He pointed a threatening finger that just made Mycroft laugh.

'The Offspring's been around way longer than Green Day, and they're fucking amazing,' Greg said. ' _Fall Out Boy_ is a band with four fucking gaylords who play shitty emo fucking crap.'

'Fall Out Boy plays a mixture of punk and alternative rock music that reaches millions of fans worldwide,' Mycroft said. 'Patrick Stump has an amazing voice, and you have to really _listen_ to their lyrics to understand everything.'

'Bull-fucking- _shit_ ,' Greg said.

'Do you do this to everyone when you disagree with their choices in music?' Mycroft queried.

Greg blinked. 'What?'

'Do you shout and call people derogatory names when they disagree with your choices?' Mycroft asked.

'Uh... maybe,' Greg said.

Mycroft smiled. 'You don't have to like the same music as me, Greg, but I'd appreciate you not calling me a poofter.'

'Well you _are_ ,' Greg grumbled.

'The Offspring, Gregory dear.'

'Fall Out Boy, Mycroft darling.'

Mycroft chuckled and Greg poked his tongue out.

 

{oOo}

 

They drove for about an hour, Greg continuing to go through Mycroft's CDs, snorting every so often or going on about concerts he'd been to. Finally Mycroft turned down a narrow street and pulled up in front of a large fence.

There were two men standing behind it and they opened the gate, letting Mycroft drive in. He parked in a reserved spot and stepped out, locking his car and leading Greg towards the back door.

A man in his late twenties exited the metal door and nodded politely. 'Mr Holmes, sir.'

Greg found it odd that the dude was treating Mycroft like the boss... and then he realised that Mycroft _was_ the boss.

'Daniel, no trouble, I hope?' Mycroft asked as he shook the man's hand.

'A couple of arsehole teenagers around ten, but nothin' after that,' Daniel said, brown eyes turning to Greg.

'This is Gregory, a friend of mine,' Mycroft said. Daniel raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. 'Treat him like you would an investor,' Mycroft added.

Daniel nodded and led them up the back stairs and into the club. They walked through what seemed to have once been a kitchen but was now stacked with boxes of alcohol and various other things.

Daniel turned down a hallway lit in soft orange lighting, the walls bare concrete and the floor hard wood. They reached another door and Mycroft asked, 'Did you write the employee reviews?'

'Yeah, they're all stacked on your desk,' Daniel said. 'Did you want to look over them now or...?'

He glanced at Greg, who had his hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes roaming around.

'No, I'll take them home and call you tomorrow afternoon,' Mycroft said. 'Go back to work; I can see myself from here.'

'Just holler if you need anything,' Daniel said, shaking Mycroft's hand again.

'Oh, here,' Mycroft said, handing over his keys. 'We'll be done around three or four.'

'Right-o, Boss,' Daniel said, giving him and Greg a smile before pushing through the door before them.

Greg and Mycroft were assaulted by loud music before the door snapped shut and Mycroft turned to Greg. 'I just need to check out my office before we head into the main room, is that okay?'

Greg nodded and Mycroft opened the door to their right, Greg following him through. There were two doors either side of a narrow staircase, and Mycroft took the stairs two at a time. When they reached the top Mycroft pulled out a keycard and swiped it through the numberpad on his right while also entering what looked like a password.

'This is some place,' Greg commented as Mycroft opened the door.

Mycroft gave him a smile and led the way into the room before stopping. 'Fucking hell, Sherlock!'

Sherlock Holmes had been rifling through the desk and popped up, a broad grin stretching across his pale face. John Watson was standing in the corner looking guilty as fuck and Greg smirked as Mycroft glared at Sherlock.

'Brother, dear,' Sherlock smiled. 'What are you doing here?'

'It's my fucking office, Sherlock, I think I should be asking _you_ that question!' Mycroft snapped.

'Well...'

'Please tell me you're not conducting some stupid-arsed experiment,' Mycroft groaned.

'They're not stupid,' Sherlock huffed while his older brother rubbed his eyes. 'I need data to complete a school assignment-'

'So you figured you'd break into my club?' Mycroft demanded.

'Now, is it technically breaking in if I had a keycard?' Sherlock asked, sliding a white plastic card from his coat pocket.

'I wondered where that went,' Mycroft said.

'My, _please_ ,' Sherlock tutted. 'Like you didn't know I'd taken it.'

'I had hoped you weren't such a little fucker,' Mycroft said, walking across the room to pluck the card from Sherlock's fingers.

Greg walked further into the office as the Holmeses fought. It was a plain room with light grey carpet and green wallpaper, with a large desk in the middle, a bookcase to the right, and a filing cabinet with a heavy-looking lock to the left.

Sherlock was sitting on the leather-backed chair and John shifted about from foot to foot, staring from his best friend, to Mycroft, to Greg, and back again.

Mycroft pocketed the keycard and said, 'You _do_ realise it's almost midnight, yes?'

'I don't have a bedtime,' his brother replied.

Mycroft smirked. 'Oh, I believe Mother said you have to be in bed by _ten_. That sounds like a bedtime to me, Sherlock.'

'Mother also said that _you_ have to be in bed by midnight,' Sherlock retorted, eyes flicking to Greg. 'But I suppose she didn't specify exactly _whose_ bed you had to be in.'

He grinned at the dark scowl that descended on Mycroft's face.

'Who I fuck isn't any of your business!'

'But Greg Lestrade, _really_?' Sherlock smiled. 'Surely you're not _that_ desperate.'

'What's that supposed to mean?' Greg demanded.

Sherlock grinned at him. 'It means you're a slut, Lestrade.'

'Oh...' Greg blinked, 'yeah, well.' He gave a shrug that made Sherlock scowl; no doubt the younger Holmes had wanted him screaming and trying to start a fight.

'How'd you get here, Sherlock?' Mycroft asked.

'Bus,' Sherlock said. 'You?'

'One of the perks of having a licence,' Mycroft said. 'Leave, now, or I'll call Mother.'

'And say what, exactly?' Sherlock asked.

'That her dumbest son is out at a club,' Mycroft said before looking at John. 'Do your parents know where you are?'

'Do yours?' the younger teenager shot back, making Sherlock grin and Greg snort.

Mycroft looked at him and Greg said, 'Um... well, he has a good point, doesn't he?'

Mycroft rolled his eyes and turned back to Sherlock. 'I won't repeat myself, Sherlock.'

Sherlock wet his lips, blue eyes darting between his brother and Greg, before settling on the older Holmes. 'I'm not done with my experiment.'

'I really couldn't give two fucks,' Mycroft said, pointing at the door. 'Out, now.'

'I _could_ leave,' Sherlock mused, 'but then who would tell dear Gregory the truth?'

Mycroft froze and Greg said, 'Truth?'

'Sherlock...' Mycroft warned, voice a growl.

'The _truth_ , Lestrade,' Sherlock grinned, 'about my brother and how he feels.'

'What?' Greg said, frowning in confusion.

John was trying to hold back laughter- though still standing in the corner and trying not to be noticed- while Mycroft was glaring at Sherlock with un-hidden fury.

'Should I tell him, My?' Sherlock asked his brother. 'Or would you prefer to?'

Mycroft stalked around his desk and wrapped his fingers around one of Sherlock's skinny wrists. He tugged him off the chair- Sherlock kicking and shouting- and over into the corner.

'Sherlock, don't you dare!' Mycroft hissed, too low for Greg and John to hear him.

Sherlock just smirked. 'I stay, or Lestrade finds out how long you've been pining for him.'

'Sherlock-'

' _I stay_ ,' Sherlock repeated, 'or the town whore learns that you've fancied him for years.'

Mycroft glanced at Greg, who was trying to look like he wasn't staring, before looking back at Sherlock.

'Well?' Sherlock asked, a grin threatening to tug at his lips.

'If you weren't my brother I'd kill you!' Mycroft snarled. 'Four am and you come back with us, got it?' Sherlock nodded quickly. 'And stay away from the fucking bar.'

'But _My_ -'

'No alcohol for you or John, even if you just want to experiment,' Mycroft cut in. 'Agree or I'll throw you out on your fucking arse right now, got it? I might even call the cops.'

Sherlock scowled but gave a dramatic, ' _Fine_!'

He and Mycroft shook on it and Mycroft grabbed his arm, propelling him from the room.

'I can fucking walk myself,' Sherlock growled.

'I don't give a fuck,' Mycroft replied, pushing Sherlock out the door.

'You're a bastard,' Sherlock glared at his brother.

'This is me not caring,' Mycroft said, pointing at his blank face. 'John, out!'

John quickly scampered across the room and out the door. Sherlock flipped Mycroft off before the older teenager slammed the door shut.


	25. Roll On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Roll On by The Living End
> 
> **Author's Note:** I love The Living End, so yes, I WILL put them in a fanfiction story :D Also, the bassist plays a double bass, not a regular bass guitar, and the lead guitarist always jumps on the instrument during certain songs.
> 
> {Dreamer}

'He do that a lot?' Greg asked when Mycroft sighed, rubbing his eyes.

'Too often,' Mycroft said, turning to face the other teenager. 'I'm sorry about that.'

'Meh, don't matter,' Greg shrugged. 'So, cool office.'

'Oh yes, absolutely charming,' Mycroft said sarcastically.

Greg chuckled and Mycroft walked across to his desk, sitting and going through the files Sherlock had been messing around with.

'He's messed everything up, as usual,' Mycroft muttered as he quickly restored his files.

'Well, that's what little brothers are for, right?' Greg said. 'Annoy the fuck out of you but still have your back.'

'Exactly,' Mycroft chuckled. He locked everything away and glanced down at the reviews his manager had left. He quickly flicked through them, blue eyes darting across the pages, and Greg wondered if he could really read that fast, or if he was just skimming.

Finally Mycroft locked the paperwork away in his desk and turned to face Greg. 'So, a drink?'

'Yes please,' Greg smiled as Mycroft led him from the office.

 

{oOo}

 

'I really need a drink after this week,' Greg said. 'I haven't been partying in _ages_.'

'Me either,' Mycroft hummed as they walked downstairs.

'Why haven't you been partying?' Greg asked.

Mycroft stopped at the door that would lead them to the main club, eyes glancing over Greg briefly. Finally he said, 'I've been busy,' and pushed the door open.

They were assaulted by techno-pop music, stuff Greg didn't particularly care for but was a given at every club. They headed towards the bar and Greg suddenly had a thought, grabbing Mycroft's arm as they pushed through the crowd.

Mycroft turned to him and Greg shouted in his ear, 'Aren't you driving?'

'My manager, Daniel, is driving us home,' Mycroft replied, leaning close so Greg could hear him. 'He parks his car at the Manor because he doesn't trust the parking here.'

'But _you_ park here,' Greg said.

Mycroft shrugged. 'I have a lot of money, Greg, a stolen car is hardly cause for concern.' Greg just shook his head as Mycroft walked up to the bar. He quickly flagged down one of the bartenders, before looking at Greg.

'Oh, um... J.D and Coke,' Greg said.

Mycroft turned back to the man and ordered, the bartender scrambling about to get the drinks. Greg laughed and Mycroft said, 'One of the perks of being the owner.'

Greg smiled as Mycroft grabbed their drinks, saying to the bartender, 'He's with me.' He nodded at Greg, who gave a wave. 'Free drinks, understand?'

The young man nodded and Mycroft handed Greg his bourbon, leading him towards the stage.

'I can pay,' Greg said. 'I work a few days a week at Tesco, I've got money.'

'I dragged you out, so I'll pay,' Mycroft said.

Greg smiled over his glass. 'What, is this a date?'

Mycroft's blue eyes, slightly darkened by the lights, turned to Greg. He smirked slightly and said, 'Why, do you _want_ this to be a date?'

Greg blinked and said, 'Erm... I...'

Mycroft chuckled. 'Relax, Gregory, I'm teasing you.'

'You're a prick, you know that?' Greg said, turning to hide the blush working up his face.

Mycroft just smiled.

 

{oOo}

 

They bopped around to the music, just chatting and drinking to loosen themselves up. When Mycroft returned with their third round Greg said, 'I don't _mind_ clubs, but the music fucking sucks.'

'There's an Australian band playing in... twenty minutes,' Mycroft said, checking his phone for the time.

'An Australian band?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded. 'They're not _very_ big here, but they've got a dedicated fan base.'

'Who are they?'

'The Living End,' Mycroft said.

Greg tilted his head, trying to think if he'd heard of them. 'Um...'

'Roll On?' Mycroft asked, Greg shaking his head. 'Prisoner of Society? White Noise-'

'Hang on, I think I've heard that last song,' Greg cut in. 'Um... all that I'm hearing from you...'

'Is white noise,' Mycroft smiled.

'Yeah, that's it,' Greg nodded. 'So they're good?'

'Excellent,' Mycroft said. 'A bit like Green Day; pop-punk and alternative rock.'

'Cool,' Greg said, sipping his drink.

 

{oOo}

 

The band consisted of three members as well as a touring bassist for some songs. The lead singer had dyed blonde hair and was wearing tight black jeans, a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing chunky bracelets around his wrist, and a bright red cravat around his neck. The bassist- who played a double bass rather than a guitar- had a mohawk and was wearing all black, and the drummer had short brown hair that was messed up and was wearing a sleeveless black shirt and jeans.

Greg grinned; he _did_ so love when bands had sexy members.

The crowd clapped and cheered as the band took their positions.

'What up, Fiddler?' the lead singer shouted in an Australian accent. Everyone cheered. 'We're The Living End,' the singer continued, 'and we're here thanks to the owner of the club, Mikey H!'

Everyone cheered louder and Greg snorted, Mycroft elbowing him.

'Anyway, thanks for coming out,' the singer said, 'and we hope you like our stuff.'

He stood back and nodded at someone to his right before placing his fingers on the neck of his Gretsch White Falcon. The song started with a guitar rift, the guy's fingers moving up and down the neck as the audience started bopping along to the music. The drums joined when the rift repeated, everyone getting more involved.

Soon all three were playing and the song washed through Greg's body as the singer moved to the microphone.

'We’ve been waitin'... on the front _liine_... we’ve been preparin' our entire lives for this day to _ariivee_ ,' the man sang, Greg listening carefully, 'and no doubt this will be... part of our _histoory_... we’re makin’ our move and we’re breakin' out of the _griind_.'

Greg found that the music was really good and silently complimented Mycroft on his taste. If the smirk on Mycroft's face was anything to go by, the other teenager knew just what Greg was thinking.

'Today the new age will rise up, state our case, and throw it _doown_...' the singer continued, 'and after the rain, the only ones that still remain are standin’ _prooud_... _separ-ATE-ed_ from the _croowd_...'

The bassist and drummer started back-up singing, a chant of 'How do we know?' that the crowd joined in while the lead guitarist sang the chorus over the top.

Greg found himself singing along and bouncing on the balls of his feet, sloshing his drink down his throat whenever he could.

'New information... comin' down the _liine_ ,' the guitarist sang, 'but as far as I can tell it's just the blind leadin' the _bliind_...'

The crowd cheered and jumped.

'I see frustration... written in the _eeyees_... of a disaffected race bein' born under a bad _siign_...'

Soon the words were washing over Greg, making him feel giddy and uplifted. He absolutely _loved_ this about live music; the way the band made you feel a part of something big, the way you danced, sang, and cheered with hundreds, sometimes thousands, of people you didn't know.

When the guitar solo started Greg was gone, bouncing around beside Mycroft while cheering. Mycroft had let himself go too and Greg grinned as they danced- well, jumped- beside each other, everyone else doing the exact same thing.

' _To-daay_ will _BE_ the last _daay_... tomorrow everything will _change_!' the guitarist sang.

The guy's fingers moved up and down the neck of the guitar, picking at the strings as the crowd cheered, and then with one last chord the song ended and everyone screamed.

'That was _fuckin'_ awesome,' Greg panted.

'So you like them?' Mycroft asked.

'Fuck yes,' Greg said, turning to plant his lips against Mycroft's. 'You have fuckin' good taste, Mr Holmes.'

Mycroft chuckled.

'So this is an older song of ours,' the lead singer said, shifting his guitar about. 'Prisoner of Society.'

The crowd cheered as the guitar started, the drummer bashing against his instrument and the double-bassist pulling at the strings while bobbing his head.

Greg started jumping up and down with Mycroft again, the rest of the audience around them doing the same.

'Well we don't need no one, to tell us what to do,' the guitarist started singing, 'oh yes, we're on our own, and there's nothing you can do, so we don't need no one like you! To tell us what to do!'

'Fuckin' awesome!' Greg shouted.

Mycroft laughed and knocked back his drink, body hot and sweaty against Greg's.

''Cause I'm a brat... and I know everythin', and I talk back... 'cause I'm not listening to _aany-thiinn'_ you _saaay_!' The guitarist shouted into the microphone, 'And if you count to three-'

' _ONE, TWO, THREE!_ ' the audience all screamed.

'You'll see it's no emergency,' the singer continued, 'you'll see I'm not the _eeneemy_ , just a prisoner of _socieeeety_!'

Greg got caught up in the music, in the anthem that the band was playing, that spoke to all the teenagers writhing about in the moshpit. Mycroft was a firm, hard presence next to him, and Greg cheered along with everyone else.

'... you'll see I'm not the _eeneeemy_...' the guitarist sang, 'just a prisoner of _socieeety_ \- GO!'

A guitar solo started, one that had the entre moshpit jumping up and down, drinks and sweat flying, Greg's own glass dropped on the floor a few minutes earlier. All Greg could feel was the music thrumming through his body, heart rate increased and head banging up and down as he enjoyed the music.

Mycroft was doing the same thing and Greg found Mycroft's sudden loss of control to the music intoxicating.

Everyone who knew the words was singing along by now, the lead guitarist jumping atop the double bassist's large wooden instrument before leaping back onto the stage. When the song came to an end there was mass cheering and clapping, the musicians sweating and rubbing their eyes.

'You people are beautiful!' the singer shouted, everyone cheering that much louder.

What followed was a two-hour long set that, in Greg's eyes, was fucking _amazing_. The band knew how to get the crowd cheering, and their stuff was heavy, punk-fuelled energy that made Greg want to jump off something. When they were done everyone cheered and shuffled about getting fresh drinks and buying merchandise.

'Fucking awesome,' Greg said, breathing heavily, face flushed. 'I need their CDs, like, _now_.'

Mycroft chuckled and said, 'Come with me.'

Greg followed him through the crowd and they disappeared through the door that led to the back of the club, the bouncer nodding at Mycroft as he and Greg walked through.

They went down the hallway and through another door, Greg suddenly finding himself in a large room with armchairs, sofas, a mini-fridge, and The Living End.

Greg felt out of place as Mycroft walked up to the lead singer, shaking his hand. 'Awesome set, Christopher.'

The guy chuckled. 'Thanks for havin' us, Mikey. And it's Chris, alright?'

Mycroft just smiled and shook the other members' hands before calling Greg forward. 'This is a friend of mine, Gregory.' Greg waved weakly. 'Greg, this is Christopher Cheney, the lead singer and guitarist, Andrew Strachan, the drummer, and Scott Owen, the double bassist.'

Greg shook all their hands and Chris said, 'Seriously, it's just Chris. What's with Mikey calling everyone by their full names?'

' _No_ idea,' Greg said.

'Call me Andy, only my mum calls me Andrew,' the drummer said, smiling at Greg.

Greg blinked at them for about five seconds before gushing, 'You guys are fuckin' _awesome_.'

Scott chuckled and Mycroft smiled as Chris asked, 'You a fan?'

'Um... yeah, I am now,' Greg nodded.

'Yeah, we're not that big here, but we got some fans,' Chris nodded. 'We can sign some stuff if you want?'

'Fucking hell, that'd be _awesome_ ,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft excused himself to grab some stuff for Greg, and Greg stood chatting to the band while feeling like his heart was going to jump out his chest. Chris let him hold his White Falcon and Greg plucked at the strings a bit before Mycroft came back.

The three musicians signed all their CDs, as well as two shirts and a poster, for Greg, who spluttered and turned red as he thanked them. They all chuckled and Mycroft shook their hands again.

'We're touring in a few weeks, should come see us,' Chris said.

'Fuck yes,' Greg nodded. 'That'd... I'd... hell yes!'

They laughed again and Mycroft thanked them for performing before leading Greg back out.

'Holy fuck are you fucking amazing,' Greg said as they walked back to Mycroft's office. 'Any chance you can get Green Day to play here?'

Mycroft snorted. 'I'll see what I can do.'

'Seriously, Mycroft, thanks for all this,' Greg said, holding up the merchandise he'd got signed. 'You're amazing.'

'I get it, Greg,' Mycroft smiled. 'But thank you.'

Greg grinned and kissed his cheek as he dumped his stuff on Mycroft's desk.

 

{oOo}

 

They headed back to the club, alcohol kicking in and making the music not just tolerable but damn good fun. They sloshed back drink after drink, rubbing against each other and making out against the wall, the stage, various other snogging couples.

Greg and Mycroft were both good and drunk when they stumbled into Mycroft's office at three am for some privacy. Sherlock and John were sitting on the sofa and Sherlock groaned, covering his eyes when he saw his brother snogging the local boy slut.

'Out, boys, we're having some adult fun,' Greg grunted, pointing at the door.

'Fuck you,' Sherlock replied.

Greg shrugged. 'Suit yourself.' He tugged Mycroft back in, mashing their mouths together and eliciting a groan from the auburn-haired teenager.

Sherlock poked his tongue out and finally jumped to his feet. He had to drag John up- the short boy was staring at Greg and Mycroft with wide-eyes- and when the door slammed shut Greg giggled.

'I'll have to keep you around more often,' Mycroft mumbled against Greg's lips. 'You have a way with Sherlock.'

'Just gotta threaten him with seein' his brother naked,' Greg mumbled. 'Speakin' of which...'

He dragged Mycroft over to the now vacated sofa and threw him down, Mycroft letting out a breath of air as Greg climbed atop him. Mycroft drew Greg down, lips pressing together hard, tongues sloppily licking into each other's mouths.

Mycroft's hands dove up Greg's shirt, touching warm, sweaty skin, Greg groaning into his mouth. Their lips were sloppy at best, mouths mashed together and tongues licking skin, each other's tongues, teeth, whatever they could reach.

Suddenly Mycroft started tugging at Greg's shirt, and the older teenager pulled back, breathing laboured as he ripped his shirt off. Mycroft groaned, darkened blue eyes roaming up and down Greg's chest. He was fit and lithe, with tanned skin, dark brown chest hair, and muscled arms. He had a light line of freckles across his stomach, just above his waistband, and Mycroft brushed his fingers along them.

Greg looked down, eyes slightly hazy from all the alcohol, and smiled. 'From cricket,' he got out, Mycroft looking back up at him. 'I fell asleep on the field and burned somethin' bad when my shirt rode up. Ended up with freckles.'

'I like freckles,' Mycroft mumbled, fingers ghosting over Greg's belt. 'I didn't see them last time you had your shirt off... how didn't I see them?'

'You were a bit occupied with sucking my cock,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft chuckled and tried to roll Greg, but they were both drunk. They ended up in a heap on the floor, groaning as they blinked through the pain.

'You prick,' Greg grunted.

'Shut up,' Mycroft retorted. He shuffled down Greg's body, kissing and licking a path to his nipples.

'Fuck,' Greg groaned, twisting his fingers through Mycroft's hair and pulling him closer. Mycroft nipped at one of Greg's nipples, dragging the nub between his teeth, and Greg gasped, arching up and rubbing his trapped cock against Mycroft's stomach.

Mycroft pulled back and blew across Greg's wet skin before moving further down, pressing sloppy kisses to Greg's stomach, and soon, his freckles. His tongue pushed along the strip of skin, his tongue-piercing adding delicious pressure that made Greg groan.

Mycroft briefly darted up to dip his tongue into Greg's bellybutton before heading further down, pressing his face against the bulge in Greg's jeans. When he came back up for another kiss, Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft's body and rolled them.

'Sneaky prick,' Mycroft muttered, Greg chuckling against his lips.

'My turn,' Greg murmured, drawing back. He made Mycroft sit up and the red-head pulled at his tie, soon getting the material free as Greg attacked his buttons. He ripped a fair few- not that either cared in their alcohol-induced states- and soon Mycroft was shrugging out of his waistcoat and black button-up.

Greg's eyes widened when he saw Mycroft's exposed torso. He was very pale and thin, but had some muscle to his arms, chest, and stomach. His shoulders and arms were absolutely _covered_ in light brown freckles, barely an inch of skin visible. Mycroft watched in amusement as Greg leaned forward, shuffling between Mycroft's legs so he could touch.

'Holy hell are those fucking adorable,' Greg mumbled.

'Adorable?' Mycroft questioned.

Greg blinked, trying to focus his eyes on the other teenager. 'Um...'

Mycroft chuckled and dragged Greg forward by the back of the neck, pressing their lips together. The two kissed for a few minutes before Greg broke away to kiss and nuzzle Mycroft's neck, moving down to his freckled shoulders.

'Oh God, they're adorable,' Greg repeated, licking the freckles he could reach, hands ghosting over the others. 'You always had these?'

'All my life,' Mycroft nodded. 'I _do_ have red hair, remember?'

'Nah, it's auburn,' Greg mumbled. He pushed Mycroft down, still kissing and licking his skin, and grinned when Mycroft shivered beneath him. He latched onto the blue-eyed teen's left nipple, sucking at the small nub before dragging it between his teeth.

Mycroft moaned, fisting one hand in Greg's hair, the other trailing down his naked back. Greg couldn't help but shudder as he sucked and licked his way down Mycroft's body, fingers leaving the smooth skin and grabbing his belt.

Mycroft lifted his hips as his belt slid free, Greg tugging his jeans and boxers off-

Only to encounter his shoes.

'Goddamn it,' Greg groaned.

Mycroft giggled, head feeling fuzzy from the alcohol and Greg's hot body. He leaned forward and he and Greg fumbled with his laces, Mycroft eventually kicking off his high-topped chucks.

He sat back, completely naked, and Greg drooled. He had _no_ idea how he'd never noticed just how fucking sexy Mycroft was; he was all long limbs and slim, fit body, his skin pale and freckled.

The last time Greg had seen Mycroft's lower half, there had been a small amount of ginger pubic hair. Now... well, now...

'Oh God, you shave your cock?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft blushed and shuffled to his knees. 'Shut the fuck up.'

Greg giggled as he was pushed onto his back, Mycroft ripping at his own trainers. 'Oh God, you're just... you're... _so_ gay.'

'You wanna walk home, cunt?' Mycroft demanded.

Greg smothered his giggles with both hands, and smiled when Mycroft's hands reached his jeans. 'Sorry.'

'I like having a clean workspace,' Mycroft muttered as he pulled Greg's jeans down, the other teen still grinning. 'Unlike you,' he added when Greg was naked. Greg's pubic hair was dark brown and curled around his erection, and Mycroft's lust-filled eyes hungrily devoured the entire area.

'I'm not gonna shave myself just 'cause _you_ want a clean workspace,' Greg mumbled. He held up his hands, Mycroft's eyes roaming up to his. 'Now come 'ere.'

Mycroft decided he'd yell at Greg later; right now he had a boy to rub against. So he climbed over Greg on all fours, Greg groaning just at the sight.

'Fuck, you're gorgeous.'

Mycroft chuckled, kissing his way up Greg's warm, soft skin. 'Just-' kiss, '- for-' kiss, '- you.' He finished by pressing his lips hard against Greg's, the older teen moaning and drawing him closer.

Mycroft settled himself on Greg's lap and pushed until their cocks lined up, Greg hissing at the skin-on-skin contact. Though Greg would _much_ rather Mycroft bury himself in his arse, he'd settle for some good old frottage.

'Fuck, Greg,' Mycroft grunted, stopping almost as soon as they'd started.

'W-What?' Greg asked.

Mycroft breathed in deeply, trying to blink past the alcohol and pleasure assaulting his body. 'Gonna come too soon,' he mumbled.

Greg grinned, absolutely fucking _thrilled_ that he could make Mycroft come un-done so quickly. He grabbed Mycroft's arse- _Oh God, that fucking arse_ , he thought- and kneaded the soft cheeks, making Mycroft moan.

He used Mycroft's body to pull his own up and kissed the other teenager softly. 'So come,' he breathed, taking Mycroft's bottom lip between his teeth and dragging back.

Mycroft snapped and launched himself at Greg, forcing the older boy to the floor. Greg let out a huff of air that Mycroft swallowed, mouth hard against Greg's, body even harder.

He pushed forward and Greg groaned loudly, wrapping his arms around Mycroft's waist and thrusting up. Greg had had this type of sex plenty of times in the past, either when he was too drunk to fuck a guy, or didn't have a condom.

But it had never been like _this_.

Greg didn't know if it was Mycroft's body, or just the knowledge that it was Mycroft Holmes rubbing against him, but it was _fucking_ good.

Greg kissed him passionately, sucking on Mycroft's tongue when it snaked into his mouth. Mycroft moaned and kissed him harder, breathing heavily. Their hot, sweaty skin just made it easier for Mycroft to move, his entire body sliding deliciously against Greg's and sending waves of pleasure through their bodies.

Their lips were still sealed together, tongue thrusting, lips sucking, and teeth clacking together as they bobbed back and forth. Greg's fingers slid from Mycroft's arse and around his hips, ghosting down his flat stomach before trailing down to his cock.

Mycroft gasped as Greg's fingers wrapped around both their cocks, pulling in time with each thrust of Mycroft's hips. 'Oh fuck, Greg,' he choked out, ripping his lips away from Greg's and moaning.

Greg groaned beneath him, feet planted on the floor, own hips rolling to add to their pleasure. He could barely fit his hand around both of them- Mycroft was really fucking big- but he'd had more than enough practice jerking two men off to get a good, steady rhythm going.

Both of Mycroft's hands pressed to the carpet either side of Greg, head bent as he continued to rut back and forth. Greg could feel an orgasm coiling in his gut, Mycroft's body and cock and breathing and just _everything_ setting his nerves alight.

'M-Mycroft,' Greg grunted. 'I can't... p-please...'

He didn't know what he was asking, really; he was too far gone. But Mycroft's hips started moving erratically, the younger teen pressing himself harder and harder against Greg with each thrust. Greg upped his speed, pulling roughly on both their shafts, sweat making his eyes sting and body overheating.

Suddenly Mycroft's lips were back against his, tongue sloppily plunging into his mouth to lick, taste, explore. Greg moaned into his mouth, free hand scratching through Mycroft's sweat-soaked hair.

'G-Greg,' Mycroft groaned. 'F-Fuck, just... almost...'

'Mycroft,' Greg breathed.

Mycroft came with a shout that was muffled by Greg's mouth, warm liquid suddenly coating Greg's fist and stomach. Mycroft bit hard on Greg's bottom lip and Greg shouted, arching up and covering his stomach in his own seed.

They shook together, eyes squeezed shut and lips parted as they breathed heavily through their orgasms. Greg felt like he was floating, like he'd been half-fucked into the mattress, like... well, he didn't know, he just felt _really_ fucking good.

Mycroft moved first, groaning and rolling onto the carpet, sprawling across the floor and panting heavily. Greg wasn't much better off, the alcohol and physical exertion combining together to make him sleepy and fucked.

They lay across the carpet trying to get their breath back, blinking back exhaustion. Suddenly Mycroft giggled and Greg said, 'What?'

'I just rode the town's boy slut,' Mycroft chuckled.

Greg snorted and rolled over, wrapping himself around Mycroft's body. 'So what's that make you?' he teased, kissing Mycroft's cheek.

'A boy slut handler?' Mycroft suggested.

Greg chuckled and pressed his face against Mycroft, smiling stupidly.


	26. Hangover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver

'Rise and shine, Gregory!'

Greg groaned. This was what his mother did every time he slept through his alarm. It was absolute murder when he was nursing a hangover. Even _worse_ when he was trying to pretend he wasn't hungover.

Greg moaned as he sat up, the blankets pooling around his thighs. Mycroft's manager... something, Greg couldn't remember the dude's name, had driven Mycroft's Jag with Greg, Mycroft, and John stuffed into the backseat, Sherlock sprawled across the passenger seat and talking loudly. Mycroft had been in no condition to help Greg into his room, so Greg had been dropped off in the street and left to his own devices (after a nice, long snog from Mycroft, of course).

He'd nearly killed himself at least twelve times stumbling up the driveway, and again climbing through his bedroom window. How is mum hadn't heard him was beyond Greg.

He'd dropped into bed around four-thirty or five, again Greg was a little hazy on the details. And now it was six, Greg had slept maybe an hour, and his brain was trying to explode from his ears, eyes, nose... well, it was just being a fucking bitch.

Greg hissed as his mum pulled the drapes open, making Maggie turn and stare at him. 'What's wrong with you?' she asked.

Trying to form a coherent sentence seemed like the biggest task Greg had ever undertaken, but after a few seconds he said, 'Just got a migraine, have since last night.'

'Hmm,' Maggie mused, looking the teenager over. She'd seen enough drunk teenagers at the hospital, as well as her own son, to know when someone was hungover. 'You sure about that?'

Greg blinked and tried to look at his mum, wincing against as sunlight hit his eyes. 'Y-Yeah,' he said. 'My head... hurts...'

Which wasn't a lie; his head was _pounding_.

'You look hungover,' Maggie said.

'Hungover? Yeah, feel a bit like that,' Greg said, hoping him admitting to it would fool his mum. 'Wish I was, that'd be a hell of a lot better.'

Maggie frowned at that and moved forward, pressing her hand to Greg's forehead. 'You're not warm.'

'Just... painkillers, I think,' Greg said. 'I should be fine.'

'Are you sure?' Maggie asked.

Greg nodded, breathing in deeply. He'd gone to school with hangovers before (though he'd usually slept at least six hours) so he should be fine... you know, when he stopped feeling like he was dying.

'Yeah,' he finally grunted and stumbled from bed. 'Just... shower... painkillers.' Maggie watched him with narrowed eyes, but Greg was beyond caring. He needed to drown himself in the shower and then shove painkillers down his throat.

 

{oOo}

 

Fifteen minutes later Greg still felt like shit, but at least it was just a throb in his temples opposed to a death march. He couldn't bear the thought of food but sucked down some orange juice before kissing his mum goodbye- Maggie was still staring at him.

Greg rode to school and found that Mycroft wasn't waiting for him this morning like he usually did. Greg wasn't surprised, really. He'd still be in bed if his mum wasn't there to wake him up.

So he did his detention, feeling like the world was trying to kill him, but when it was over he was free; that was the last one, the two weeks were up. He had a party Saturday night- which he'd definitely be going to if his mum let him off- and an entire two days of hopefully making out with Mycroft Holmes.

Greg's heart still skipped a beat whenever he thought of the night before. A lot of it was hazy, but Greg remembered Mycroft rubbing against him; his hot, sweaty skin; his long, thick cock; his-

Greg swallowed thickly and shook his head (not a good idea when you're hungover) and groaned as he headed for the smokers corner. He'd finished early so he could sit for five minutes and have a cigarette.

He'd just lit it and took a drag when a shadow fell over him, and Greg looked up-

Only to sigh when he saw Dimmock.

'Oh, well _that's_ the way to greet your best friend,' Dimmock said.

'Shut up,' Greg groaned, rubbing his eyes.

'What's up with you?' Dimmock asked, leaning against the bricks beside Greg, who was sitting on the concrete. He lit his own smoke and said, 'You look hungover.'

'I _am_ hungover,' Greg said. 'Me and Mycroft went out clubbing.'

Dimmock choked on his cigarette and smacked his chest before spluttering, 'W-What?'

'We went out clubbing,' Greg mumbled. 'Um... well, is it clubbing when he owns the club?'

'Mycroft owns a club?' Dimmock demanded.

Greg nodded. 'Owns a few, apparently,' he said. 'Turned up at my place last night, we snuck out, didn't get home till... I dunno, 'bout four or five.'

'Jesus,' Dimmock said. 'Seriously?' Greg nodded again and the other teenager snorted. 'Wow, I can't believe it... seems Mycroft Holmes is a bad influence on you.'

Greg glared at him but it was half-hearted at best; he was still in way too much pain to really kick Dimmock's arse.

'And where is your boyfriend?' Dimmock asked.

'He's _not_ my boyfriend!' Greg growled.

'Yeah, yeah; where is he?'

'Dunno,' Greg shrugged, 'haven't seen him since last night... or this mornin', either one.'

'Hmm,' Dimmock mused, making Greg look at him.

'What?'

'Well,' Dimmock said, 's'just weird, you know?'

Greg frowned. 'What is?'

'Well... you two are usually joined at the hip,' Dimmock said, smiling when Greg scowled. 'It's really weird seeing you without Mycroft Holmes' lips attached to yours.'

'Fuck off,' Greg grunted.

Dimmock chuckled and drew back on his cigarette. ' _Waah-chh_.'

Greg groaned and rubbed his thumping temples.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg hadn't seen Mycroft that morning, and figured he'd just slept late, like any normal person with a hangover did. But when lunch swung around and Mycroft wasn't in the library, Greg began to... panic? No, not panic, why would he panic? That was just stupid. He just wanted to... you know, know that Mycroft was okay. That was all. And it was absolutely fine, right? He was allowed to worry about his... _friend_ , right?

Greg headed back to the smokers' corner- where Dimmock, Joe and Dylan hung out- and pulled out his phone when he reached them.

'Oh my God, Gregory Lestrade, in the flesh!' Dylan shouted.

Greg ignored them as he typed.

 

**Where the hell are you?**

 

A nudge had Greg looking up and he frowned when he realised all three boys were looking at him. 'What?'

'You haven't hung out with us at lunch in... two, three weeks?' Joe said.

'Why the sudden change?' Dylan asked. 'Andy stop puttin' out?'

Greg's frown deepened and confused made his eyebrows furrow. 'What the fuck are you on about?'

'We just figured you were gettin' some at lunch,' Dylan said. 'Andy seemed the most likely choice.'

Dimmock snorted at the look on Greg's face. 'No!' Greg practically shouted. 'No, fuck no, I'm not shaggin' Andy!'

Dylan rolled his eyes and Joe said, 'Greg, please. You're obviously going _somewhere_ during lunch.'

Greg scowled and wet his lips. 'I've been... um... in the library.' That received howls of laughter from Joe and Dylan, and Dimmock snickered as Greg shouted, 'I have! I've been... studying!'

Well, it wasn't _that_ much of a lie, really. He _had_ been studying in the library _sometimes_... but other times he'd been snogging Mycroft against bookcases, desks, walls... well, you get the idea.

Before Greg could shout some more, his phone buzzed. Dimmock watched in amusement as Greg practically ripped it free, swiping his thumb over the touch-screen.

 

_I decided to have a lie in; a squad of four-year-olds decided to take up residence in my head and have a shouting match - M_

 

Greg breathed a sigh of relief and Dimmock asked, 'Good news?'

Greg threw him a scowl as he texted back.

 

**You prick. You take out me out clubbing and then skive?**

 

'Who you textin'?' Dylan asked.

'Your mum,' Greg retorted, re-reading Mycroft's old texts as he waited.

'Always so nasty,' Joe hummed.

'Fuck off,' Greg muttered, phone buzzing again.

 

_You could have skipped school. I didn't make you go, did I? - M_

 

**FUCK YOU! You knew I had bloody detention. Mum woke me up just after 6, felt like I was dying.**

 

'Is it just me or is he smiling like a fuckin' idiot?' Dylan's voice reached Greg's ear.

Greg looked up. 'What?'

'Oh, he's _definitely_ smiling,' Dimmock nodded, smirking at his best friend. 'So tell us, Greggie, why are you smiling?'

'I ain't smiling,' Greg huffed.

'You guys ever notice how he says _ain't_ instead of _I'm not_ , when he's upset?' Dimmock asked.

Dylan nodded and Joe grinned. 'He talks like some fuckin' idiot. So come on, Gregory, details; who's the guy?'

'There ain't- _isn't_ ,' Greg corrected when his three mates smirked. 'There _isn't_ any bloke, alright?' His phone buzzed and Greg scowled at them as he checked his messages.

 

_Mm, I'm currently lying across my bed with an ice-cold beer, watching a video, and touching myself. It's EVER so relaxing. And what are you doing, Gregory dear? - M_

 

Greg scowled.

'Ooh, boy trouble,' Dimmock giggled.

Greg lashed out, kicking Dimmock in the thigh and making him stumble into the wall.

 

**You're a filthy boy, Mycroft darling.**

 

'Fuck you,' Dimmock groaned, rubbing his leg and wincing.

'Love you too,' Greg said, blowing him a kiss. He pulled his cigarettes out and lit one before glaring at Joe and Dylan. 'There's no guy, alright? I'm texting a mate, I go to the library to study, end of story.'

'Come off it, Greg,' Joe grinned. 'Tell us the truth.'

'We're your buddies,' Dylan whined, batting his eyelashes.

Greg flipped them off and looked down at his phone as it vibrated in his hand.

 

_Have a lovely day at school. Kisses - M_

 

Greg chuckled and put his phone away, taking a long drag of his cigarette and blowing smoke above his head.

'Aww, look at the cute smile,' Dylan grinned, grabbing one of Greg's cheeks.

'Fuck off, cunt,' Greg scowled, swatting him away. Dimmock was still smiling at him knowingly and Greg glared.

 

{oOo}

 

'So you were texting Mycroft, yeah?' Dimmock asked as soon as they sat in their PE classroom.

'Yes,' Greg snapped.

'What's wrong, Gregory?' Dimmock smiled.

'You know what's fucking wrong!' Greg practically shouted, making the students already gathered look at them. Greg lowered his voice and hissed, 'You know what's wrong, Dimmo.'

'What's wrong?' Dimmock asked, feigning ignorance.

Greg's scowl darkened. 'Why the fuck did you say all that shit to Dyl and Joe?'

'I didn't say anything,' Dimmock said. 'Dylan noticed you were acting like a fucking little girl with a crush-'

'And _you_ egged him on!' Greg whispered harshly.

'Now see, I notice that you didn't _deny_ that you were acting like a little girl with a crush,' Dimmock said. He smirked when Greg gaped at him, cheeks darkening quickly and brown eyes swivelling around.

'Shut the fuck up!' Greg snapped.

'Come off it, Greg,' Dimmock said. 'When are you gonna stop denying that you like Mycroft?'

'I _don't_ -'

'Like Mycroft, yadda, yadda,' Dimmock cut in. 'Except you totally do, and Molly agrees with me.'

Greg groaned and thumped his head against the table, Dimmock chuckling. 'You'll never stop, will you?' Greg muttered.

'I will when you admit that you like Mycroft,' Dimmock said.

Greg groaned again.


	27. Dirty Little Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Dirty Little Secret by The All-American Rejects
> 
> **Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who has commented, I really appreciate it. You guys make writing this story such a pleasure, and I'm really glad so many people are enjoying this story :) Just a note, it looks like this story's going to be a good forty chapters long, possibly more. So I hope you're up for the long journey :)
> 
> Enjoy the chapter,
> 
> {Dreamer}

'Well, my darling little boy, you're free as of tomorrow morning,' Maggie said when Greg walked in.

'Thank God,' Greg said, kissing his mum on the cheek. He eyed the tea set she was putting out. 'What are you doin'?'

'Meghan Holmes is coming over for tea,' Maggie said.

'What? You didn't tell me that!'

Maggie raised an eyebrow as she looked up at Greg. 'It was a last minute thing,' she said. 'Meghan called, she'll be over in about an hour.'

'Right,' Greg said, 'um, is...'

'Mycroft's coming, yes,' Maggie nodded, watching in confusion as a smile tugged at Greg's lips.

'Right, well... five, right?' Greg asked as he backed towards his room. 'I'd better get changed and... stuff.'

Maggie watched as Greg practically ran to his room. 'What on earth?' she mused, going back to getting everything ready.

 

{oOo}

 

At ten to five Greg was waiting by the door. He was dressed a tight, jet-black jeans, a shirt that had The Living End written across three different coloured arrows and outlines of three musicians, and a thin, blue-and-black checked flannelette shirt.

'What's up with you?' Maggie asked.

Greg jumped, eyes swivelling to rest on his mum. 'Um... just... I've got an assignment,' he lied slowly, 'and I was hopin' Mycroft could... you know, look at it.'

'An assignment?' Maggie asked with raised eyebrows.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

'Mm-hmm...' Maggie mused.

'Serious,' Greg said.

'Oh, I believe you,' Maggie smiled, and Greg could tell she really didn't.

He shrugged and went back to checking his email, eyes glancing at the time in the top right-hand corner of his phone. He wasn't going to tell his mum the truth; he hadn't snogged Mycroft Holmes all day and he needed to _now_ , damn it!

When the doorbell went off, Greg shoved his phone away and waited for his mum to answer the door. Meghan stepped in first, kissing Maggie on each cheek, and then Mycroft followed.

He was dressed in pressed black trousers and a baby-blue button-up shirt with a dark green sweater-vest over the top. His hair was combed perfectly, face clear of makeup, but damn did Greg still find him attractive.

Greg swallowed thickly as Maggie shut the door and ushered her two guests in. Mycroft's eyes moved to Greg and he smiled broadly, eyes crinkling.

'Gregory, good afternoon,' Mycroft said politely, reaching out to shake Greg's hand.

'H-Hi,' Greg stuttered, trying not to blush when Mycroft's lip curled into a smirk.

'Greg, you mentioned an assignment you had?' Maggie said when she and Meghan joined the teenagers.

'Oh, yeah,' Greg said, dropping Mycroft's hand and ripping his eyes away.

'An assignment?' Mycroft queried.

'I... have an assignment,' Greg said, 'um... I was hoping you could look at it?'

Mycroft cocked his head before saying, 'Of course, Gregory; I'd be delighted to.' He turned back to the two women. 'Please excuse us.'

Meghan inclined her head and Maggie watched as Greg led Mycroft to his bedroom. As soon as Greg shut the door Mycroft was on him, crushing their mouths together and making Greg thump into the bedroom door.

Greg gasped but wound his fingers through Mycroft's hair, tugging him forward even as Mycroft stepped closer to close the non-existent gap between them. Their lips were hard and sloppy at best, tongues dancing together and fighting for dominance.

Eventually Greg's retreated and Mycroft's tongue followed, swiping along Greg's teeth and gums, flicking against the roof of his mouth and making Greg groan. His legs felt weak and he slouched against the door as his mouth was tongue-fucked, Mycroft's body hard and hot against his own.

Greg could still remember Mycroft naked, could still remember how that warm, hot body felt sliding against his own. The memories alone were enough to make Greg's cock twitch in interest, and add Mycroft's tongue, warm breath, and the moans he was giving, and Greg was fully hard by the time they broke apart.

Mycroft looked Greg over carefully before smiling, pressing their lips back together for a warm, gentle kiss. It was still enough to have Greg whimpering and he tugged on Mycroft's expensive sweater, dragging him that little bit closer.

When Mycroft's tongue disappeared, Greg's followed, and finally he was allowed to explore the taller boy's mouth. Mycroft's right hand ran up and down Greg's tight t-shirt, his left cupping Greg's cheek to keep his head in place. Greg's fingers were still twisted in Mycroft's hair, messing up the perfect style he'd had minutes before.

'You're a prick,' Greg said when they finally broke apart, breathing laboured and lips swollen.

Mycroft chuckled and started kissing Greg's jaw, making Greg stifle a groan and arch his neck to give the red-head more access. 'And why is that?' he murmured.

'Took me out... c-clubbing,' Greg mumbled, 'skived... skived sc-school.'

'Mm, you would have too,' Mycroft mused, 'if Mummy wasn't there to get you up.'

'Again, you're a prick,' Greg replied.

Mycroft smiled as he drew back. 'I'll make it up to you.'

'Oh yeah?'

'Mm-hmm,' Mycroft nodded and kissed his lips softly, dragging the bottom one between his teeth.

'W-Well...' Greg stuttered, darkening brown eyes locking onto Mycroft's light blue ones. 'You're off to a _great_ start.'

Mycroft smirked and kissed him again.

 

{oOo}

 

After ten minutes of serious snogging, Greg and Mycroft broke apart. They made a detour to the bathroom to splash water on their heated faces and try and take down the swelling in their lips.

It was a lost cause though, so they both shuffled back into the kitchen together, keeping their heads down as they joined Maggie and Meghan, who were already sitting at the table.

Maggie's eyes zeroed in on Greg's swollen lips before flicking to Mycroft and finding the same thing. Greg sat heavily and stared at his tea cup, hoping his mum wasn't putting everything together; though knowing her, she'd have everything figured out within five minutes.

The rest of the tea passed with little incident, and Mycroft actually stuck around for the entire thing, his foot sliding up and down Greg's leg constantly. Greg did his best to stifle the various noises Mycroft made him make, and by the time Mrs Holmes and Mycroft were ready to leave he was fighting a losing battle with his libido.

Greg shook Mrs Holmes' hand, Mycroft's too, and couldn't help looking into the younger boy's eyes. Mycroft gave him a slight smirk before he was thanking Maggie and leaving, his mother following.

Greg immediately turned to go have a shower- and maybe a wank- when Maggie called out, 'You and Mycroft seem to be getting along.'

Greg froze and swallowed thickly before turning and giving a shrug. 'Yeah, well... he's smart, ya know?'

'Mm,' Maggie nodded. 'You sure that's all you think he is?'

Greg gulped again. 'Y-Yeah.'

'Gregory?'

Greg stared at his mother. 'W-What?'

Maggie's eyes roamed over him carefully before she said, 'Nothing,' giving Greg the opportunity to escape.

_Oh there is_ something _going on there,_ the woman mused as she put everything away and started washing up.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg spent most of Saturday sleeping, surfing the internet, eating, and texting Mycroft. There was a party that night at BJ's and Greg wanted to know if Mycroft was going.

 

_I should be there around 11 - M_

 

Greg smiled when he finally got a straight answer. It'd been an hour of flirt-type texts, as well as Mycroft teasing Greg and Greg calling him a prick. Finally Greg knew Mycroft was going and could dress accordingly.

 

**Cool. So I'll see you around?**

 

He slurped his noodles and read another text from Dimmock, replying before Mycroft's new text came through.

 

_Why, do you miss me? - M_

 

Greg snorted.

 

**No, just horny; as always.**

 

_Tisk, tisk; don't lie to me, Gregory dear - M_

 

**I'm not, Mycroft darling.**

 

_I'll see you tonight - M_

 

**Can't wait :)**

 

And it was true. Just the knowledge that Mycroft was going to be there, dressed like sex-on-legs, was enough to make Greg's cock twitch.

'What are you smiling about?' Maggie asked as she walked through the room, grabbing various articles of dirty clothing.

Greg jumped and blushed slightly before saying, 'Um, nothing.'

'Nothing?' Maggie echoed.

'Mm,' Greg nodded, locking his phone and dumping it on his bed. Maggie paused, eyebrows raised. 'What?' Greg asked.

'You've got that odd little look on your face,' Maggie said. 'The one you have some mornings, or some afternoons, and after you text your _friend_.'

'Um... w-what look?' Greg asked.

'That one,' Maggie said, nodding at him. 'Like you can't wait to see something... or some _one_.'

Greg jolted in his seat and looked down, blushing furiously as he stared at his desk. 'D-Don't be stupid,' he muttered, eyes pointedly on his laptop. 'I'm just... you know... p-party tonight.'

'Mm-hmm,' Maggie mused. 'And is someone special going to be at that party?'

'N-No,' Greg stuttered, aware that his mum could see right through him. He swallowed thickly. 'You know, besides me.'

Maggie chuckled and leaned down, kissing him atop his head. 'Whatever you say, honey.'

Greg kept his head down as Maggie left his bedroom, humming under her breath.

 

{oOo}

 

Molly's silver Toyota pulled into the driveway and Greg leaned over the sofa to kiss his mum on the cheek. Maggie dragged him back by the sleeve and raised an eyebrow.

Greg was wearing his best black jeans, tight around the legs and hips, with high-topped black Chucks on his feet. He had a tight Living End shirt on, covered by a black button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He had a thick, black leather bracelet on his left wrist, thinner ones on his right, and a few leather necklaces around his neck.

His brown hair was spiked up and messy, and he ran a hand through it as he said, 'What?'

'What's all this?' Maggie asked, gesturing at his clothes.

'What?' Greg repeated. 'Just... you know, goin' out.'

'Greg, you don't normally dress this nicely,' Maggie smiled. 'So come on, who are you dressing for?'

'No one,' Greg said as Molly beeped the horn outside.

'Greg, please,' Maggie prodded. 'What's his name?'

'Nothing, there's _no one_ ,' Greg insisted.

'Gregory-'

Molly beeped the horn again- or more likely it was Dimmock- and Greg said, 'Mum, I gotta go.' He kissed her again.

'Fine, fine. Be careful, okay?'

'I will,' Greg said, waving before disappearing out the door. He jogged down the driveway and to Dimmock, who was leaning against the car and smoking.

'What took you so long?' Dimmock asked.

'Mum wanted to play Twenty Questions,' Greg muttered, pulling the passenger-side seat forward so he could crawl into the back.

'Nice clothes, Greggie, dress up for someone?' Dimmock asked as he flicked his cigarette out.

'Ha-fucking-ha,' Greg muttered. Dimmock chuckled, putting the seat back in place and sliding into it. 'Hey, Molly,' Greg said, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek before pulling his seatbelt on.

'Hi, Greg,' Molly smiled. 'Everyone ready?'

Dimmock shut the car door, pulled his seatbelt on, and nodded. 'Ready, gorgeous.'

Molly beamed and pulled out of the driveway, quickly heading to BJ Masters' house.

'So...' Dimmock hummed, twisting in his seat to look at Greg. 'What's with the clothes?'

'What?' Greg said. 'I look how I usually do.'

'No, no,' Dimmock shook his head, 'there's been some thought here; an actual plan. Your hair is artfully messy, you've got the right amount of jewellery on, that's a new shirt from a band I've never heard of, some style with the black button-up, and those are your best and newest jeans.'

Greg scowled. 'God, you're gay.'

'Well _you_ are dressed up for a fellow boy, so what's that say about you?' Dimmock asked.

'Fuck off, Dimmo, I didn't dress up for anyone,' Greg growled. He should have known this was coming; Dimmock and Maggie were too observant.

'Tut, tut; don't lie, Gregory,' Dimmock smirked.

'Just fuck off, alright?' Greg growled.

Dimmock smiled. 'So, is Mycroft coming tonight?'

Greg stared out the window, leg jiggling as he thought. Finally he said, 'Yeah, he's coming.'

Molly practically squealed and Greg ignored her, choosing to glare at Dimmock as his best friend grinned.

'Well, that's nice,' Dimmock said, finally turning back in his seat.

'Cunt,' Greg grunted, Dimmock and Molly grinning.


	28. Feeling Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Feeling Good [Cover] by Muse
> 
> **Author's Note:** I've been getting a few questions about The Living End so I thought I'd write a bit about them here.
> 
> The Living End is a pop-punk alternative rock band from Melbourne, Australia. They're a bit like Green Day and have three members. They're one of my favourite bands and I recommend the following songs if you're interested; How Do We Know?, Second Solution, Prisoner of Society, Roll On, Waiting For The Silence, White Noise, and Who's Gonna Save Us? I'd recommend more but the author's note is long enough.
> 
> Anywho, enjoy the chapter!
> 
> {Dreamer}

As soon as they got to BJ's, Greg was out of the car, pushing through the various other teenagers already there. He went straight to the kitchen to get himself a beer, BJ appearing before him.

'Hey, Lestrade,' BJ said.

Greg blinked, looking up at him. 'Uh... hi, BJ.'

BJ smirked. 'Not so bitchy when Mikey ain't around, huh?'

'Um... well...'

BJ clapped him on the shoulder. 'Hey, I get it; you wanted to impress Mikey.'

Greg felt colour rush to his face, skin burning as he stared at BJ. 'N-No I didn't.' BJ just stared at him. 'No, serious; I _don't_ fancy him, alright?'

'Uh-huh,' BJ said as he collected money from other people walking in.

Usually you had to pay five or ten quid when you walked in. Stewart, BJ's older brother, worked in the family brewery and could get all kinds of alcohol for free, but the Masters brothers still liked to make some money.

'Look, Lestrade,' BJ finally said after pocketing about forty quid, 'I've seen you stalk plenty of guys at parties, alright? You're not exactly subtle when you're lookin' for somethin' to root.' Greg blushed again. 'But I saw you and Mikey together, you can't lie to me.'

'I ain't lying!' Greg insisted.

BJ snorted. 'Whatever you say, Lestrade. You and Mikey will make it official soon enough. Invite me to the wedding, yeah? I did technically introduce you.'

Greg scowled and the other teenager chuckled, sipped his drink, and walked into the living room. Greg downed his beer before quickly pouring another and heading outside to have a smoke.

 

{oOo}

 

After two cigarettes Greg went back inside, grabbing another drink before joining Dimmock, Molly, Joe and Dylan. The latter two had shown up about ten minutes earlier and Greg was thankful for their presence. With Joe and Dylan around, Dimmock and Molly wouldn't say anything about Mycroft.

That didn't stop them from giggling and whispering to each other whenever Greg checked his phone or glanced up when the front door opened.

Dimmock was leaning against the wall with one arm wrapped around Molly, the other circled around a plastic cup. Molly was drinking her usual lemonade and kept smiling over the bottle at Greg.

'What?' Greg growled when Joe and Dylan started chatting about football.

'Nothing, nothing,' Molly shrugged, but she was still smiling.

'I'm gettin' sick of you two,' Greg sighed.

'Now, let's not be nasty,' Dimmock said, Greg flipping him off.

'What are you two bitching about?' Dylan asked.

Greg stared at Dimmock, who smirked a bit before saying, 'Nothing.'

Joe and Dylan looked between them before going back to their football discussion, leaving Greg to glare at Dimmock and his girlfriend.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg was on his fifth beer when he spotted Mycroft. He cut himself off halfway through his sentence, making both Dimmock and Molly turn to see what had his attention.

Mycroft was getting a beer from the keg and smiled when he saw Greg. He had those tight black leather trousers on that Greg loved so much, with a white-and-black checked belt. His white shirt, that had open buttons about halfway down, was tucked into his trousers, and a midnight blue velvet jacket wrapped around his torso perfectly.

Greg swallowed thickly, eyes practically popping as they roamed from Mycroft's messy auburn hair, down to his eyes (black eyeliner and dark blue eyeshadow), past his absolutely kissable lips, to the leather necklaces hanging around his neck, down his slim form, fucking _gorgeous_ arse, and finally down his slim legs and to the black boots with the silver buckles undone.

'And we've lost him,' Dimmock hummed.

'Fuck off,' was Greg's reply before he downed his drink and pushed past Joe. Dylan had already flitted off with some blonde chick, and Joe had his eyes set on a brunette in the corner, so Greg was confident they wouldn't see him wander off with Mycroft.

Greg entered the kitchen, where Mycroft was refilling his cup.

'Hello, Gregory,' Mycroft smiled.

'Mikey,' Greg said, pouring a fresh drink.

'I fancy a cigarette; you?' Mycroft asked.

'Oh, yeah,' Greg nodded.

Mycroft smiled and led the way through the house, eventually stepping through the door. Greg let it shut behind him as he and Mycroft descended the back steps and walked across the paved area.

Mycroft pulled out a packet of cigarettes and offered Greg one, but Greg wanted something _else_ , thank you very much. He wrapped his arms around Mycroft and tugged him in, Mycroft's gasp turning into a moan when Greg's lips pressed against his.

Greg kissed slightly harder when Mycroft stuffed his cigarettes away, arms winding around Greg's slim waist. Greg felt a tongue press against his bottom lip, stroking and practically begging entrance. Well, who was Greg to deny Mycroft what he wanted?

He peeled his lips open and grunted when Mycroft's tongue dove in, stroking against his own before tangling with the wet organ. Greg moaned, his tongue licking over Mycroft's piercing, his tastebuds.

They'd moved closer together and Greg could feel Mycroft pressed against him, the other teenager's cologne adding to the delicious haze of lust that had descended. He didn't know how someone could smell that delicious, but _God_ did Mycroft smell fucking good.

Greg's hands moved from Mycroft's back, brushing over the soft velvet of his jacket before pushing up. He stroked Mycroft's back again, feeling hot skin beneath the thin cotton of Mycroft's shirt.

He moved further down as his head was tilted, Mycroft dominating the kiss and thoroughly exploring his mouth. Finally his hands rested on Mycroft's goddamn glorious arse. He ran his palms over both globes before digging his fingers in and grabbing.

Mycroft gasped as he was hauled forward, Greg crushing the non-existent gap between them. At the same time he pushed forward, rutting hard against Mycroft's crotch.

'Fuck, Greg,' Mycroft moaned, pressing kisses to Greg's neck and nipping softly at the skin he found.

Greg grunted in response, enjoying Mycroft's actions and firm arse too much to bother talking. It'd been too long since he'd had a proper grope; Mycroft didn't mind snogging him at school, but he preferred his uniform to remain intact.

Mycroft and Greg were rutting shamelessly against each other, and Mycroft's mouth had moved back to Greg's lips, sucking and nipping back on the bottom one before his tongue plunged back inside.

Greg groaned loudly, fingers digging into Mycroft's leather-clad arse to pull their bodies together. Mycroft once again ripped their lips apart when the need for oxygen became too great. He buried his face in Greg's neck, breathing heavily as his cock strained against his trousers.

Pausing, Greg pressed soft kisses to the top of Mycroft's head before moving down to his cheek, his ear. 'Why don't we move this inside?' he asked softly. 'Like, to a bed?'

Mycroft chuckled and drew away, blue eyes darkened with lust. 'Not yet, Gregory.'

Greg groaned. 'Why not?'

'Why rush a good thing?' Mycroft murmured, the same words he'd said so many weeks ago.

Greg sighed and kissed Mycroft again. 'You're killing me, you know?'

'Anticipation can have its own rewards, Gregory.'

'What the fuck does that mean?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft chuckled again and kissed him softly, lips warm and gentle against Greg's own. He'd just pulled back to say something when the back door banged open, three guys and two girls stumbling out laughing.

Mycroft linked his fingers with Greg's and tugged him slightly away, leaving the other teenagers to shout and laugh at each other on the paved area. Mycroft dragged Greg around the side of the house, walking across the concrete driveway.

Greg gasped when he was forced back, stumbling until his body connected with the cold brick wall. Mycroft pressed them back together, fingers tearing at Greg's belt as they kissed and licked each other's mouths.

'M-Mycroft,' Greg whimpered as his zipper was torn down, boxers shoved aside so Mycroft's cold, soft hand could pull his erection free.

'Un-zip me,' Mycroft ordered, lips moving to tug at Greg's ear. Greg groaned and did as asked, fingers shaking as his neck was assaulted by Mycroft's skilful tongue.

He finally managed to get Mycroft's own erection free and groaned again when his hands were batted away, Mycroft's long fingers quickly wrapping around both their shafts. He gave a long tug, and though it was a bit hard without lube, it still sent shivers of pleasure through Greg's body.

Greg's hands moved back to Mycroft's arse, squeezing the covered cheeks and dragging the auburn-haired teen closer as he himself thrust forward. Mycroft's hand felt glorious on his shaft, his cock even better, and Greg grunted as his lips were caught in another rough, passionate, absolutely _filthy_ kiss.

Greg didn't know how anyone could kiss this well; Mycroft used just the right amount of tongue, teeth, and lips, even his _panting_ turned Greg on. Well, now wasn't the time to focus on that; Mycroft was jerking him off, jerking them off _together_ , and Greg _should_ be focused on _that_.

So he tugged Mycroft even closer, fingers kneading and digging into the genius' arse, hips twitching with each twist of Mycroft's wrist. He was groaning heavily as Mycroft's tongue licked and stroked his own, piercing dragging along his tastebuds and making Greg grunt.

Heat was fast pooling in Greg's gut, and his head was fuzzy from alcohol and Mycroft's kissing and Mycroft's cologne and Mycroft's... well, his head was fuzzy from Mycroft.

Mycroft's fingers gripped their cocks tightly, pulling from root to tip, thumb occasionally brushing through the liquid dribbling from both their slits. Greg whimpered as a particularly hard tug and push of hips had heat spiralling through his body and right down to his toes.

Mycroft's lips were hard, bruising, and soon they ripped away so the two could breath. Greg's head dropped back to rest against the cold bricks, swollen lips parted and each breath torn from his chest.

He could feel himself getting closer, could feel _Mycroft_ getting closer too. The younger teen's hand was moving faster, grip becoming tighter, and breathing increasing that little bit more as his lips sucked back to form a hickey on Greg's neck.

'M-Mycroft...' Greg stuttered, trailing off into a moan as Mycroft bucked against him. 'F-Fuck, oh God,' he continued, 'fuck, you're so... guh... aaahh...'

'So... what?' Mycroft asked, breath washing over Greg's ear. 'Tell me, Greg.'

Greg moaned as Mycroft's thumb once again brushed over the head of his cock. Mycroft's other hand was gripping Greg's hip tightly, fingers digging in painfully as Mycroft jerked them off.

'Tell... me...' Mycroft said again, his order slightly off because of the little moan he gave between words.

'So... fucking... beautiful,' Greg choked out, back arching off the wall. 'P-Perfect- oh, God!'

Mycroft's hand was moving even quicker, Greg grunting, whimpering, and generally just making stupid noises. Mycroft wasn't much better but buried his face in Greg's neck, moans stifled by his shirt.

'God, you're hot,' Mycroft grunted. 'Dress up for... for me?'

'Uh-huh,' Greg nodded, admitting what he'd been denying since he left the house.

Mycroft's free hand moved, fingers digging into Greg's back before moving down to his arse. He gripped one cheek tightly and tugged Greg forward.

'Mycroft!' Greg practically shouted as he came, liquid spurting between them and dripping down their shirts, Mycroft's hand.

Mycroft moaned and bit hard into Greg's neck as he tugged him forward again, his own orgasm finally spilling from him, more come coating his sticky hand.

He milked their climaxes, hand slowing and avoiding their sensitive heads, as the two teenagers shook and panted against each other. Greg was now slumped heavily against the house, legs shaking and feeling weak. Mycroft was a heavy presence against him, entire body shaking slightly as he came down.

When Greg could think clearly he tugged Mycroft up, brown eyes meeting blue before their lips pressed together. They exchanged soft, lazy kisses until they broke apart again, Greg grinning stupidly and Mycroft chuckling.

'You don't need a bed to have a good time,' Mycroft commented as he drew back. He dug into his left pocket, eventually pulling out a squished packet of tissues. He did his best to clean them both up, but Greg's Living End shirt was stained, as well as Mycroft's own.

'Fuck you and your white shirts,' Greg grunted, wiping a thumb along one of the long stains above his bellybutton.

Mycroft chuckled and grabbed Greg's button-up shirt. He did a few of the buttons up. 'See? Problem solved.'

'Oh yeah, tell _that_ to my mum.'

'Just throw your shirt into the washing machine after she's put your others in; she won't notice,' Mycroft said.

Greg raised an eyebrow. 'Hide a lot of come-covered shirts, do you?'

'I don't kiss and tell, Gregory dear.'

Greg snorted and made sure they were both zipped up before grabbing Mycroft. 'I'll take that cigarette now, Mycroft darling.'

Mycroft chuckled and allowed Greg to pull him back around the house.


	29. Unintended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Unintended by Muse
> 
> **Author's Note:** Okay, so a lot of you (all of you) want Greg and Mycroft to stop riding the denial train and just admit that they are totally in love and shag each other's brains out. Well, I promise that it will happen. And, because you're all so awesome, I'll tell you exactly when it happens; chapters 38, 39 and 40.
> 
> Anywho, enjoy :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

Greg was having the best time of his young life. It had been about two months since he'd first met the real Mycroft Holmes, and since then their sexual acts had been pretty regular. They'd kissed, licked, touched, and rubbed against each other at any available time. Though there still hadn't been any actual penetration- and though Greg _really_ wanted Mycroft's cock in his arse- what they were doing now was pretty good.

They'd been back to Mycroft's club a few times, Greg always stumbling around school with a hangover the next day, and Mycroft skiving but climbing through Greg's bedroom window at night.

Dimmock was still being a bit of a prick, and Molly's constant questions of, 'So, Greg, how's Mycroft?' were driving him up the wall. But Dylan and Joe didn't know, and though Maggie had almost caught them a number of times, she still didn't know either.

Only BJ, Sally Donovan, Matt Sanders, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Andy Freen from school knew; BJ and Sally because they were usually at Greyson Lake when Greg and Mycroft went there; Sherlock and John because Sherlock knew _everything_ (and told his best-friend-no-not-my-boyfriend-you-fucking-cunt John Watson everything); and Andy because he'd finally put two and two together.

A fair few people had seen Greg and Mycroft in the library, as well as walking around school, chatting in class (Mycroft now sat next to Greg in English Lit, but only because he liked touching Greg under the table), and hanging out in the carpark.

It seemed most people thought Greg's mum had snapped and decided to make him do better in school, so had got Mycroft to tutor her son. A few thought Mycroft was trying to climb up the social ladder by associating with the town's local badboy. All of this came from Dimmock, because no one was going to chat to Mycroft Holmes, and nobody wanted Greg smacking them for talking about him.

Andy knew Greg; he knew the look Greg got in his eyes when he wanted to shag someone (having had that look put on him a year previously). He'd also, finally, put it together and realised that it was Mycroft who'd shagged the absolute fuck out of him all those weeks ago.

So he'd cornered Greg after cricket one PE class, asking if Mycroft was really Mikey. Greg had stuttered his way through a lie before Andy got the truth out of him. Afterwards it wasn't hard for the older teenager to realise that Greg and Mycroft were shagging. Of course, he wasn't going to tell anyone; he didn't mind Mycroft, and Greg was a good bloke. So their secret was safe with him.

Greg told Mycroft that night, after Mycroft had once again climbed through his bedroom window. They were lying on Greg's bed after a long snogging session and Maggie had left earlier for her shift at the hospital, so they didn't need to be worried about getting caught.

'Really, Andrew finally put it together?' Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded, moving so he was lying on Mycroft's arm, brown eyes looking up at the auburn-haired teen.

'Hmm, I suppose it was inevitable.'

'You don't care?' Greg asked. When Mycroft raised an eyebrow, Greg elaborated, 'You don't care that Andy knows?'

'Why would I?' Mycroft asked.

'Well, he could tell people,' Greg said. 'I mean, he promised he wouldn't, but-'

'Gregory,' Mycroft cut in, pressing a finger to Greg's lips, 'I honestly don't care.'

'Mm...' Greg hummed against Mycroft's finger.

Mycroft chuckled and removed his digit, swiftly replacing it with his lips. Greg grinned and tugged him down, Mycroft soon sprawled over his body.

 

{oOo}

 

Yet another party, and Greg was- yet again- waiting for Mycroft. They had a bit of a system set up. Greg would arrive, either with Dimmock and Molly or by walking, and he'd sit and chat to his mates while waiting for Mycroft. Mycroft would turn up about an hour or two later, catch Greg's eye, and they'd disappear to talk a bit before snogging and touching each other.

It was a good system; Greg knew without a doubt that he'd be getting some. He didn't bother looking at the other guys there, didn't care if some bloke practically sat on him and promised a good time. Greg only had eyes for Mycroft. And, thankfully, Mycroft only had eyes for Greg.

'And where the fuck have you been?' Joe asked.

'What do you mean?' Greg asked, frowning as he sat. 'I just went to get a beer.'

' _Noo_ ,' Dylan said, 'he means where the fuck have you been these past few weeks? You never show up at lunch, you're _always_ busy when we wanna go out, and you disappear at every fucking party.'

'So, I ask again,' Joe said, 'where the fuck have you been?'

Greg squirmed as Joe and Dylan stared at him, waiting for an answer. Dimmock and Molly were both grinning knowingly and Greg glared at Dimmock, who buried his face in his girlfriend's neck to hide his giggles.

There was a simple answer to his mates' question, of course; Greg had been with Mycroft Holmes. Every lunch he went to the library to talk, flirt, snog, and sometimes touch or be touched by Mycroft. Sometimes they even snuck out for a cigarette, or made out in an empty classroom.

After school Greg would either go home and text or call Mycroft while doing his homework or surfing the 'net, or he'd go hang out with Mycroft at Greyson Lake. Sometimes they drove to the McDonalds just outside of town, or they went for rides on Greg's bike.

At every party Greg disappeared to wait for Mycroft, and when the other teenager turned up they'd chat and snog in dark corners, out the back, or in the bathroom.

Greg chewed on his bottom lip as he realised he'd pretty much abandoned his mates for Mycroft. But... there was nothing wrong with that, right? Greg still hung out with Joe and Dylan after school... sometimes. And they still talked at parties before Greg went off with Mycroft.

Dimmock knew where he was and had no problem with it, he was more than happy to chat to (and tease) Greg in class or after school. Besides, he had Molly to spend time with.

Greg glanced over Joe and Dylan and was shocked when he realised that he'd rather spend all his time with Mycroft, even if they weren't snogging. He'd much prefer to sit outside McDonalds smoking and chatting with the auburn-haired teen then fucking around with Joe and Dylan in the Tesco carpark.

He still liked seeing Dimmock, of course. Despite constantly saying Greg wanted to be Mycroft's girlfriend (or wife, fuck toy, boy-toy, whatever Dimmo decided to call him that particular day), Dimmock was still a lot of fun, and he knew about Mycroft. Sure, he teased Greg about it, but he didn't _really_ care that Greg was... whatever it was he was doing with Mycroft.

Joe and Dylan, on the other hand... Greg could just imagine the fucked up shit they'd say and do if they found out Greg was basically shagging Mycroft Holmes.

Greg frowned, oblivious to the tisks and scowls Joe and Dylan were giving him- and the snickers and stupid smiles Molly and Dimmock were throwing his way. Greg was about to open his mouth and say... something, when a head of auburn hair caught his eye. He looked up to see Mycroft- dressed in leather _fucking_ trousers- walk past the back of the sofa Dimmock and Molly were sitting on.

Greg grinned as Mycroft smiled at him and tilted his head at the back door before heading into the kitchen to grab a drink.

'Greg?' Dylan said as the other teenager stood.

'Um... I'll be back,' Greg mumbled.

Joe grabbed his arm and Greg glared at him. 'You say that every fucking time, mate. Seriously, what the fuck's wrong with you?'

'Leave him alone,' Dimmock said, leaning forward and pushing Joe back. 'He doesn't have to tell you everything.'

'We're friends,' Joe scowled.

'We wanna know what the fuck's going on,' Dylan said.

Greg wasn't about to break whatever it was he had with Mycroft just because Joe and Dylan wanted to know everything about his life. Dimmock could see that and said, 'Fuck off, alright? Leave 'im alone.'

Greg smiled in thanks and sipped his beer as he pushed through the crowd and out the back. He stood in the grass, eyes roaming over the trees, plants, and rough stone paths. When the backdoor banged open Greg turned and grinned.

Mycroft smiled back, a drink in one hand, and closed the gap between them, pulling Greg in for a gentle, warm, absolutely fucking wonderful snog. When they broke apart Mycroft pecked Greg quickly on the lips and said, 'What's wrong?'

'Huh?'

'Something's wrong, Gregory,' Mycroft said. 'I saw you glaring at your friends.'

Greg sighed and Mycroft sipped his beer, waiting. 'Joe and Dyl demanded to know where I've been the past few weeks.'

'Oh?'

'Mm,' Greg nodded. 'I didn't say anything.'

'You can if you want,' Mycroft said.

'What?'

'You can tell your friends about us, Dimmock already knows,' Mycroft said as he lit a cigarette.

'Yeah, but... Dylan and Joe aren't like Dimmo,' Greg said. 'We've never been that close, we're... mates, not _friends_ , ya know?'

'You don't classify them as important like Dimmock,' Mycroft said.

Greg nodded. 'Don't get me wrong, they're okay blokes, but... I dunno.' He shrugged. 'I just know they'd take it bad.'

Mycroft smiled and wrapped an arm around Greg's waist, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 'It doesn't matter, Greg. If they find out they find out.'

Greg turned to look at him. 'That all I get?' he teased.

'What do you want?' Mycroft asked, raising an eyebrow.

'A proper kiss,' Greg pouted. 'Come on, you know you love it.'

Mycroft chuckled and pressed their lips firmly together, the party, and Joe and Dylan, forgotten completely.

 

{oOo}

 

_Tea with the mothers; how boring - M_

 

**YOU are the one that suggested it, remember?**

 

_Well, yes. That's only because I had to miss the party on Sunday. I can't honestly be expected to wait until MONDAY to snog you breathless, can I? - M_

 

**Aaah, Mycroft Holmes misses his boy slut :)**

 

_You're an annoying little prick sometimes, did you know that? - M_

 

**MYCROFT MISSES HIS BOY SLUT!**

 

_Why do I text you? - M_

 

**MYCROFT, MYCROFT, MYCROFT MISSES HIS BOOOOOOOOOOOY SLUUUUUT!**

 

_I'm turning my phone off now - M_

 

**Seeya this arvo, Mycroft darling :)**

 

_Until then, Gregory dear - M_

 

Greg chuckled and put his phone down, Maggie glancing up at him. They were in the sitting room eating a late breakfast. Maggie had only just got up after the afternoon shift at the hospital, and Greg had slept most of the day away after the party Sunday night. Because Mycroft hadn't been there Greg had gotten majorly drunk, but thankfully Matt only lived around the corner.

School had been out that day (something about a staff meeting, Greg hadn't been paying attention) so Greg had been lazing about the house and generally wasting time.

'What's with the laugh?' Maggie asked, taking another bite of her salad sandwich.

Greg jumped and looked down at his plate. 'Oh, um...' he mumbled, playing with a crisp, 'just... stuff.'

'Stuff?' Maggie echoed.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

'You're such a liar,' Maggie chuckled. 'But I'll let it go; you wouldn't be a teenager if you didn't lie.'

'Way to encourage a stereotype, Mum,' Greg snickered. 'Just dress me in pink and demand I watch musicals.'

'Oh, no, I learned my lesson from making you watch Sweeny Todd with me,' Maggie shook her head. 'Though I should have known you were gay; your eyes were practically glued to Johnny Depp.'

Greg blushed and said, 'Yeah, well so were yours.'

'Well he's a fine man,' Maggie said, winking.

'Oh, _gross_ , are all mums this disgusting?' Greg demanded, shoving some crisps into his mouth.

'Maybe, how about we ask Mrs Holmes when she stops over?' Maggie asked.

Greg tried to ignore the twinge in his stomach at the very thought of seeing Mycroft. 'Um... nah, don't wanna scare her,' Greg said.

Maggie chuckled. 'It's the quiet ones, Gregory; it's always the quiet ones.'

Greg thought about Mycroft; sweet-looking, polite, darling Mycroft... who drank, smoked, swore, and teased teenage boys until they screamed to come.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, turning back to his food. 'Always the quiet ones.'

 

{oOo}

 

The tea went like every other tea; Meghan Holmes prattled on, so did Maggie, and Mycroft touched Greg under the table while Greg tried to stifle his groans with digestives and scalding hot tea.

Greg had been hoping to sneak away and make out, even for a few minutes, but Mycroft just sat there chatting about his schoolwork, Sherlock, and how he was helping Greg. Greg began to tune it out until he heard his name.

Blinking, Greg looked up to see that Mycroft, Meghan and Maggie were standing.

'Huh?'

'I was thinking I could look over that assignment you mentioned last week?' Mycroft repeated. 'Mummy was just leaving but I can stay for a few minutes.'

'Um... yeah,' Greg nodded, feeling heat pool in his gut. 'That'd be great.'

'I'll meet you at home in about an hour, Mummy,' Mycroft said, fake-smiling at his mother.

'Be careful, dear,' Meghan said, kissing his cheek and standing. Maggie led Meghan to the door, the two women chatting, and Mycroft and Greg headed to the latter's room.

As soon as Greg closed the door Mycroft was on him, sealing their lips together for a hot, passionate, absolutely _bruising_ kiss. 'Oh fuck,' Greg whimpered against Mycroft's lips.

'I missed you,' Mycroft admitted.

'I'd miss me too,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft chuckled. 'You're so vain.'

'And...?'

'And why are we talking when we could be snogging?' Mycroft asked.

Greg snorted but pressed his lips back against Mycroft's. Mycroft's fingers threaded through Greg's hair, tugging on the spiky brown locks as he licked back into Greg's mouth.

When Greg started backing towards the bed, Mycroft went with him, the two soon sprawled across the double mattress. Mycroft straddled Greg's thighs and couldn't help but rut forward, pressing his rapidly hardening cock against Greg's own.

'Fuck,' Greg moaned, wrapping his arms around Mycroft's neck to keep him in place. Mycroft's fingers alternated between scratching through Greg's hair and touching his chest, his face, stroking the soft skin he found and twisting the black shirt Greg was wearing.

The door opened and Greg and Mycroft practically leapt away from each other as Maggie froze in the doorway, mouth dropping open. Mycroft scrambled off the bed first, tripping into Greg's desk and leaning against it heavily. Greg sat up and scrubbed at his lips as his mum stared at them both.

'Well, well, well,' Maggie mused, putting her hands on her hips as Greg stood. 'So is _this_ what you do when you're tutoring people, Mycroft?' she asked. 'Or is it just my son that gets the special treatment?'


	30. Whataya Want From Me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Whataya Want From Me? [Cover] by Adam Lambert
> 
> **Author's Note:** So I just wanted to say I may have, quite possibly, most definitely lied; Mycroft and Greg get together chapter 39. I didn't mean to lie, but I ended up adding another chapter, so yeah... that's good, right? Because it means you lot get to read even more about Mycroft and Greg! So...
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

Greg stared at the floor as Mycroft opened and closed his mouth, trying to come up with something charming to say and get out of the situation. He drew a blank and merely blinked at Maggie with wide-eyes.

Finally Maggie took pity on him and said, 'Off you go, Mycroft. Greg can text you later.'

'Thank you!' Mycroft gushed and darted from the room, leaving Greg alone with his mum.

A heavy silence descended- a fucking _awkward_ silence. Greg had _never_ been caught snogging anyone by his mum. He always had sex elsewhere; he respected his mum's house and didn't bring random blokes home. Yes, Maggie had been called by the school every now and then because Greg had been found snogging some bloke in an empty classroom, but she'd never actually caught him.

So Greg didn't know what to do, or what was going to happen. He was seventeen, his mum knew he had sex... she wasn't going to yell at him, right? Or was she? Because Mycroft wasn't just a random bloke, he was _Mycroft Holmes_. He was Greg's friend, someone who Maggie personally knew, he was... well, he was _Mycroft._

Greg chewed on his bottom lip and Maggie finally broke the silence.

'So, how long's this been going on?'

'Um... 'bout two months or so,' Greg mumbled.

'I see...' Maggie mused. 'And what happened to hating Mycroft Holmes?'

'Well... he... um...' Greg tried.

Maggie looked down at him as she folded her arms. 'Gregory, you aren't causing trouble for him, are you?'

'What?' Greg spluttered. 'No!'

'Gregory-'

'What, you think I corrupted him or something?' Greg demanded.

Maggie sighed. 'No, honey, I don't. But he's Mycroft Holmes, and you're-'

'A lazy fuck-up?' Greg snapped.

'Don't you swear at me, Gregory Johnathan!' Maggie scowled, making Greg pout and cross his arms. 'All I'm saying is that Mycroft... well, he just doesn't seem your type.'

'Looks can be deceiving,' Greg muttered.

'Okay,' Maggie said, 'so Mycroft's not what he appears to be?' Greg shrugged. 'Greg, come on, I'm really trying to understand this.'

'He's... cool, alright?' Greg got out. 'I... I like spending time with him, he's fun to hang out with, and... um...'

'And...?' Maggie echoed.

'He... um... he's h-hot,' Greg stuttered, blushing when Maggie smiled widely.

'He's hot, is he?' she asked.

Greg grunted, staring hard at the floor.

'And when did Mycroft Holmes stop being annoying and start being hot?' Maggie asked.

'Um... dunno,' Greg mumbled.

Maggie nodded slowly, dark eyes roaming up and down her son. 'So... you two are being careful, yes?'

'Mum!' Greg shouted, eyes widening as they shot up to stare at Maggie.

'You _are_ being safe, right?' Maggie pressed.

'Oh my God, just stop!'

'Greg-'

'No, Mum, _no_!' Greg shouted, covering his ears with his hands.

'Gregory-'

' _So_ wrong!'

Maggie crossed the distance between them and grabbed Greg's hands, pulling them from his ears. 'Greg,' she said sternly, 'please, I'm trying here. You're seventeen; I can't stop you from sleeping with who you want. But you _have_ to be safe.'

'I am- I mean I do- I mean...' Greg trailed off, cursing under his breath as his mum let him go. 'Mum, we...' he tried, looking at her and blushing brightly, 'me and Mycroft... we... um... we h-haven't.'

'Haven't what?' Maggie asked.

Greg turned a darker shade of red and scratched at his hair. 'Haven't... we... we haven't exactly had... s-sex,' he finally got out.

Maggie stared at him. 'Greg.'

'We haven't!'

' _Gregory_.'

'Mum, honestly,' Greg repeated. 'We haven't... we haven't had _that_ kind of... s-sex.'

Maggie looked into her son's eyes, Greg trying to look as honest as possible- which _really_ shouldn't have been hard, seeing as how he was actually telling the truth.

'You're serious,' Maggie said and Greg nodded. 'But... well...'

'I know I have a... um... reputation,' Greg mumbled, figuring "reputation" was better than saying he was a slut. 'But me and Mycroft... well...'

'Gregory...' Maggie said slowly, her son looking up at her, 'do you _like_ him?'

'What?' Greg spluttered.

Maggie's eyes widened. 'Oh my God, you _like_ him.'

'Mum-'

'You fancy Mycroft Holmes,' Maggie cut in. 'Oh my God, I was waiting for this day, I just didn't think it would be _Mycroft_ who'd catch your eye.'

'I _don't_ fancy him!' Greg seethed. 'Why does everyone keep saying that?'

'Who keeps saying that?' Maggie enquired.

'You, Dimmock, Molly, BJ Masters,' Greg muttered.

Maggie giggled and Greg scowled at her. 'I'm sorry, honey,' she said, trying to keep a straight face. 'Of course you don't like him.'

'I don't!'

'Of course, honey, I believe you,' Maggie grinned.

'No you don't!' Greg snapped.

'Oh, Greg-'

'No, I don't wanna hear it!' Greg cut in. 'I don't _like_ Mycroft Holmes, I don't _fancy_ Mycroft Holmes, and I'm _not_ having sex with Mycroft Holmes, alright?'

'Of course, dear, of course,' Maggie nodded. Greg folded his arms and stared at the floor, Maggie's dark brown eyes roaming over him. 'Can I just ask you something?'

Greg frowned. 'What?'

'If you _don't_ like Mycroft,' Maggie said, 'then why haven't you slept with him and moved on already?'

Greg blinked at her and Maggie just raised an eyebrow before turning and exiting the room, leaving Greg standing there staring at the door.

 

{oOo}

 

Mycroft sat nervously at the dinner table, his BlackBerry in his lap. He'd driven straight home after Margaret Lestrade had caught him and Gregory snogging. He didn't know what would happen; he really hadn't given much thought to what he'd say or do if Maggie caught them.

So he was a little out of his element here.

Mycroft had been caught plenty of times by mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters, and even a grandmother once. The cops had cuffed him before he'd picked the locks and run. His little brother had followed him to a party and seen him sucking off some random dude on a pool table.

But he'd never been caught like _this_ ; making out in a friend's room by a woman who knew his mother and brother.

It was a bit... weird. And Mycroft Holmes did _not_ like it.

Sherlock had demanded what was wrong as soon as Mycroft had walked into his bedroom (the younger Holmes had been hiding out since Siger came home a little after three) and Mycroft had refused to comment. Sometimes it was annoying having a brother who could deduce everything.

Halfway through the main course Mycroft's mobile flashed with a new text. He continued to eat but checked the message with his left hand, eyes glancing down.

 

**So my mum is fine... I think. She just gave me "the speech" and told me to be careful.**

 

Mycroft let out a silent breath of relief and across from him Sherlock raised an eyebrow. Mycroft ignored him as he texted back, continuing to pick at his lamb.

 

_She's not going to tell my mother, is she? - M_

 

'How was school, Mycroft?' Meghan Holmes asked once she'd prattled on long enough about the new china pattern she and Melissa Masters had seen.

'Good, Mummy,' Mycroft answered. 'I got an A* on my English Literature essay.'

'Anything else would be most upsetting,' Meghan nodded.

Mycroft wanted to throw his food at her; a "well done, son" wouldn't kill her. But his mobile buzzed so he let it go.

 

**Um, I don't think so. Maybe I should ask, hang on.**

 

Mycroft chewed on his lamb without tasting it. He'd be mortified if his mother found out he was gay. Mycroft didn't think she was homophobic; she never agreed with Siger on all his "poofter this" and "fairy that" talk.

But she never stood up and said it was wrong to think that way. Mycroft, and Sherlock too, liked to hope that their mother would be okay with both her sons being gay. Though Sherlock liked to say "I am what I am" rather than have a specific label.

Mycroft was brought out of his musings when Mr Andrew took his mostly full plate away, the man looking down at him. 'Are you done, Master Mycroft?' he asked.

What a life Mycroft lived; the help cared more about him than his parents.

'Yes, thank you, Mr Andrew,' Mycroft answered politely.

Mr Andrew gave him a concerned look but let it go; like everyone else on staff, he knew the real Mycroft, and he helped as much as he could. Of course, he always sent Mycroft to bed if the teenager was caught breaking into the liquor cabinet.

Dessert was served before Greg replied, and Mycroft was stabbing at his pudding half-heartedly while his parents talked.

 

**Mum said no; it's none of your mum's business, apparently. Said to be careful, though. I'm assuming that means "Greg don't fuck around with Mycroft". She thinks you're a lovely boy.**

 

Mycroft snorted.

'Something wrong, Mycroft?' Meghan asked.

'No, Mummy,' Mycroft answered. 'I just had to clear my throat.'

Meghan nodded and went back to conversing with Siger (well, talking _at_ Siger, because the head of the Holmes family was reading the newspaper), leaving Mycroft free to text Greg back.

 

_Thank God. I don't need our mothers talking about their queer little boys - M_

 

Mycroft continued to make his pudding a chocolate-y mess while Meghan picked at hers and Sherlock devoured his own, blue-grey eyes constantly on Mycroft. Mycroft ignored him as he fiddled with his phone.

 

**What, would your mum be against you being gay?**

 

Mycroft sighed silently as he texted back.

 

_I don't honestly know. My mother isn't the most talkative of women; well, she doesn't talk about anything of importance. I got the sex talk from Mrs Lander and my father told me not to hang around any "fairies". Other than that, I'm not sure - M_

 

**Ah, so you're dad's homophobic?**

 

_In the extreme - M_

 

**Sorry to hear that, honest :(**

 

Mycroft smiled slightly.

 

_I'm used to it. You can't have everything in life, after all - M_

 

**Well, you've got money, and you get to touch my fantastic body whenever you want; score 1 for Mycroft Holmes.**

 

Mycroft's smile broadened as Mr Andrew came around to collect all their bowls. Again Mycroft said he was fine as Siger excused himself, kissing Meghan on the cheek and disappearing to his study.

'I think I'll call it an early night, my boys,' Meghan smiled, standing and stretching slightly. She kissed Sherlock first and the younger Holmes scrubbed his cheek while scowling at her.

'Goodnight, Mummy,' Mycroft smiled, kissing her cheek and exiting the dining room.

'So who you texting?' Sherlock asked as he followed Mycroft through the large manor.

'Nobody of importance,' Mycroft answered.

Sherlock scoffed. 'Lestrade's important.' As they climbed the large winding staircase, Mycroft raised an eyebrow at his brother. 'Well he's important to _you_ ,' Sherlock said.

'I see,' Mycroft hummed as he texted, Sherlock trying to peer at the screen.

 

_My father also has money - M_

 

'Lestrade,' Sherlock said with a nod. 'You only smile like that when it's Lestrade.'

'I could be texting Anthea,' Mycroft said.

Sherlock chuckled. 'If you want to talk to Anthea you go see her; her room's only a few minutes' walk. And you detest texting.'

'What do you want, Sherlock?' Mycroft asked.

'Nothing,' Sherlock shrugged. 'I'm just wondering why you're with Lestrade, is all.'

'I'm not _with_ Gregory,' Mycroft muttered.

'Ah, but you want to be,' Sherlock smirked.

Mycroft retorted, 'Like you want to be with John?'

Sherlock growled at him and it was Mycroft's turn to smirk. 'John _doesn't_ like me, and I don't like him!' Sherlock snarled. 'Would you _stop_ with that? You've been going on and on since we hit puberty.'

'Well when you hit puberty it became clear that you wanted John and vice versa,' Mycroft said as they reached Mycroft's bedroom. 'Why are you denying it?'

'John doesn't want me,' Sherlock muttered. 'He's straight.'

'For a genius you can be extremely thick on certain matters,' Mycroft commented.

Sherlock scowled. 'I hate you.'

'And I love you,' Mycroft said, darting forward to kiss Sherlock on the forehead.

'Oh, that is _so_ gross!' Sherlock shouted, scrubbing viciously at his face. 'Bastard!'

'Love you,' Mycroft repeated, opening his bedroom door.

'Fuck you, brother dear!' Sherlock snapped.

'You too, brother mine,' Mycroft smiled before shutting the door in Sherlock's face. His BlackBerry lit up again and Mycroft read the text before pulling his sweater off.

 

**Well your dad don't get to touch me, does he?**

 

_That is thoroughly disgusting, Gregory dear - M_

 

Mycroft got changed into a pair of blue and white striped pyjamas, too tired to go out partying, or even grab a drink from the endless supply in his bedroom. He did grab a cigarette and push the balcony doors open, walking out onto the small area and lighting his cigarette.

 

**I'm a filthy boy, Mycroft darling :)**

 

Mycroft smiled and blew smoke above his head.

 

_Oh, I know :) – M_

 

Greg didn't text back for a few minutes, so Mycroft finished his smoke and headed back into to brush his teeth. Afterwards he climbed into the large king-sized bed sitting in the middle of the room, pushing back the various decorative silk pillows before climbing under the dark blue silk duvet.

When Greg finally texted back it was all in capitals.

 

**OH DEAR GOD! MUM WANTS ME TO INVITE YOU TO DINNER TOMORROW NIGHT!**

 

Mycroft frowned, quickly texting back.

 

_What? - M_

 

He didn't have to wait long for the reply, and could practically read Greg's fear in the text.

 

**She said since we're, and I quote, "not dating but doing certain adult things together", then you should come to dinner so she can make it clear that she's not against our "not a relationship but sure as hell looks like one". I might just smother her in her sleep.**

 

Mycroft's frown deepened as he texted back.

 

_Are you sure we can't get out of it? - M_

 

**Have you met my mother? You have, yeah? Well when she asks something, she's more DEMANDING it. So no, Mycroft, we're not fuckin' gettin' out of it. She made it clear if you don't come she'll ask in front of your mum.**

 

Mycroft groaned and rolled onto his back, staring at the dark canopy hanging over his bed. He sighed and rubbed his face before grabbing his BlackBerry.

 

_Sometimes I hate you - M_

 

**It's not MY fault!**

 

_You're the one related to her - M_

 

***Insert picture of me flipping you off***

 

Mycroft sighed again.

 

_Fine, fine. I'll come to dinner - M_

 

**Oh goodie. If she asks about our sex life, run.**

 

_I'll throw you in front of me first - M_

 

**Ooh, I do so love being used as a human shield ;)**

 

Mycroft smiled and rolled onto his side, looking over the message before texting back.

 

_Goodnight, Gregory dear - M_

 

The reply came seconds later and made Mycroft's smile broaden.

 

**Night, Mycroft darling :)**


	31. I Don't Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** I Don't Care by Fall Out Boy
> 
> **Author's Note:** Sorry this took so long! I didn't get the chapters to my beta in time and then I was sick and... well, enough excuses. Thank you to everyone who's left a comment or kudos, I really, really appreciate it.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

Mycroft wasn't at school Tuesday; he had some debate-type thing at St Mary's and had already driven over there. So Greg was alone as he got off his bike and headed for the smokers' corner.

Dimmock was there, though, having got a detention Friday for swearing in class after Dylan slapped him.

'What's with the face?' Dimmock asked.

Greg groaned as he sat next to him on the cold concrete, helmet sitting beside him. 'Mum caught me and Mycroft snogging.'

Dimmock nearly dropped his cigarette and hissed as he burnt his thumb. He sucked on the digit and mumbled, 'Wha?'

'Mm,' Greg nodded. 'Mycroft and his mum came 'round for tea yesterday arvo. We were in my room, snogging, and Mum walked in. We were on the bed and everything so we couldn't deny what we were doing.'

'Jesus,' Dimmock said, rubbing his red skin. 'What'd Maggie do?'

'Teased us for a bit before lettin' Mycroft go,' Greg said. 'Then asked if me and Mycroft were being careful.' Dimmock giggled and Greg scowled at him. 'It ain't funny,' he growled, lighting a cigarette and puffing back on the stick. 'Fuckin' mortifying.'

'It is funny,' Dimmock laughed. 'Sorry, sorry, not funny,' he said when Greg glared at him. 'So she's not gonna tell Mummy Holmes?'

'Nah, I asked her actually, she said it was none of Mrs Holmes' business. I think she knows that Mycroft hasn't come out,' Greg said, 'and my mum would never push anyone outta the closet.'

'Good woman, your mum,' Dimmock said.

'Oh, yeah, absolutely fucking amazing,' Greg huffed, 'when she doesn't invite your shag over for dinner.'

Dimmock raised his eyebrows as he turned to look at his best friend. 'What?'

'Mum invited Mycroft over for dinner,' Greg said. 'I think she wants to make sure I haven't tricked Mycroft into shaggin' me.'

Dimmock couldn't hold back his giggles and Greg continued to glare at him as they both smoked.

'Sorry, sorry,' Dimmock said as he cleared his throat and got control of himself. 'So, Mycroft Holmes comin' over for dinner, huh?'

'Mm,' Greg nodded.

'But your mum knows you're not dating, right?'

Greg paused as he thought over his mother's words; _If you_ don't _like Mycroft, then why haven't you slept with him and moved on already?_

'Greg?'

'Um... yeah, she knows,' Greg nodded, choosing to keep Maggie's words to himself; Dimmock teased him enough as it was. 'I just... I dunno, I guess she just wants to make sure we're both consenting adults and all that rubbish.'

'Well, that's what mums do,' Dimmock said. 'Well, cool mums. Fuck knows what my mum'd say if she was alive.'

Dimmock's mum had died two years ago, which was one of the reasons Dimmock was always welcome over at Greg's place; Maggie liked to keep an eye on him and make sure Ryan Dimmock was taking care of his son.

'I'm sure she'd be fine,' Greg said. 'Just 'cause you're dad's a bastard doesn't mean she'd be.'

Dimmock just nodded and puffed on his cigarette.

'Maggie's never met any of your shags, has she?' Dimmock asked after a few minutes of silence.

'Besides you? No,' Greg shook his head. 'It'll be... interesting.'

'Take pictures.'

'Fuck you,' Greg muttered, Dimmock chuckling.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg had texted Mycroft the details and the younger teenager arrived at Greg's place at seven on the dot. He was dressed in tight black jeans, a black button-up shirt, and a black jacket. He looked gorgeous and Greg couldn't help leaning over for a sneaky kiss.

'How was your debate thing?' Greg asked as he shut the front door.

'I won,' Mycroft said, using a tone that clearly stated he'd known he was going to win. 'Sherlock won too in his year group.'

''Course he did,' Greg smiled. Anyone who tried to fight Sherlock Holmes in a battle of words was doomed from the start.

'Mycroft, hello,' Maggie said, choosing that moment to exit the kitchen. She smiled brightly at both teenagers and Greg looked down, scratching a hand through his hair as Mycroft blushed lightly.

'Hello, Ms Lestrade,' Mycroft murmured. 'Thank you for inviting me.'

'Not a problem, my dear,' Maggie smiled. 'Gregory, aren't you going to take his coat?'

'Oh, um, yeah,' Greg nodded, turning to Mycroft. He helped the auburn-haired teen from his jacket and folded it over the sofa.

'Mycroft, is chicken okay?' Maggie asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded politely.

'Well it's ready, so why don't you boys wash up?' Maggie suggested, disappearing back into the kitchen.

Mycroft followed Greg down the hallway to the bathroom.

'I'm _so_ sorry,' Greg muttered as they washed their hands. 'My mum's a criminal mastermind.'

'Well anyone who created _you_ would be,' Mycroft commented.

'Oi, what's that supposed to mean?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft smiled and pecked him quickly on the lips. 'Nothing at all, Gregory dear.'

'You're a prick,' Greg said as they headed back out.

'Yet you kiss me,' Mycroft snickered.

Greg continued to scowl as they entered the kitchen. Greg helped Maggie with the food and soon all three were sitting with a plate of chicken schnitzel, salad, potato wedges, a variety of sauces, bread rolls, and drinks spread before them.

'You're not religious are you, Mycroft?' Maggie asked.

Mycroft blinked at her. 'No, I'm an atheist.'

'Thank God, I'm starving,' Greg muttered, grabbing his knife and fork.

'I take it you don't practise any religion?' Mycroft asked.

'Well, I was raised Catholic,' Maggie said, watching as Greg dug into his food. 'But I've never been a firm believer; I'm... nothing, I suppose. I'd like to think there's more after this life, but I don't have high hopes.'

'Agnostic, then,' Mycroft smiled.

'I don't believe in God,' Greg mumbled around a mouthful of food, making Maggie tut at him. 'Sorry,' Greg said as he swallowed.

'Why don't you believe?' Mycroft asked.

'I'm gay,' Greg shrugged. 'Don't wanna follow any God who'll send me to hell for liking blokes.'

'Not all Christians believe that, Gregory,' Mycroft said.

'The majority do,' Greg countered.

Mycroft just smiled and cut into his chicken, lifting his fork to his lips and taking a bite. 'This is lovely, Ms Lestrade,' Mycroft said after swallowing.

'Thank you, my dear,' Maggie smiled. 'Some people don't appreciate good cooking.' She nudged Greg under the table and her son scowled.

'What? I thank you,' Greg said, barely getting the words out through a mouthful of chicken, salad, and potato. He swallowed thickly and said, 'Thank you, Mother dear, I absolutely _adore_ the food; best ever, absolutely scrumptious, top notch, really!'

Mycroft couldn't hold in a giggle as Maggie smiled fondly at her son.

'No need to be so dramatic, honey.'

'You asked for it,' Greg shrugged.

This type of... banter, was a far cry from the dinners Mycroft was used to. His mother prattled, his father ignored them, and Mycroft and Sherlock either had silent conversations via glares and eyebrows or tried to kick each other under the very large table (how Sherlock managed to stretch that far to kick his brother in the calf was still a mystery to Mycroft).

So Mycroft was a little put off, but like all Holmeses he plastered a smile on his face and ate slowly.

'So, Mycroft, you're gay?' Maggie asked suddenly after a few minutes of silence.

Greg choked on his mouthful and Mycroft stared, glass of coke halfway to his lips. 'Um... y-yes,' he finally said when he remembered how to speak.

' _Mum_!' Greg practically shouted, clearing his throat and glaring at her.

'What? It's nothing to be ashamed of, I was just asking,' Maggie said, a slight shrug of her shoulders following her words.

'But... you... I... _God_ ,' Greg groaned and slouched in his seat, staring at his plate.

'Sorry, sorry, I won't ask again,' Maggie said.

'No, it's fine,' Mycroft said, swallowing another mouthful of soda. 'I realised I was gay when I was thirteen.'

'Really, that young?' Maggie asked.

'Well, I realised I had no desire to kiss, touch, or be anywhere near women in a... sexual manner,' Mycroft said slowly. Greg was blushing and Maggie watching him. 'So it wasn't hard to come to the conclusion that I liked boys.'

Maggie nodded along before asking, 'And your brother?'

'Sherlock... doesn't like labels,' Mycroft said. 'If I had to use one I'd say bisexual, but he prefers to just be himself. He's shown attraction to both men and women, however he's mostly inclined towards men, especially his friend, John Watson.'

'I knew it!' Greg shouted, making the other two stare at him. 'John _totally_ loves your brother, yeah?'

'I certainly think so,' Mycroft smiled. 'They've been joined at the hip since they met, and the amount of blushing and jumping I've seen when I've walked into rooms they inhabit certainly points towards them liking each other.'

'Excellent, Dylan and Joe owe me ten quid,' Greg grinned. 'They thought Watson was straight but I _said_ -'

'Greg, don't bet on people's sexualities,' Maggie tisked.

Greg pouted and went back to chewing on his potato wedges as Mycroft smiled at him across the table.

 

{oOo}

 

The rest of dinner passed in relative silence with the occasional question from Maggie about schoolwork, where Mycroft had travelled, and what living in London had been like.

Soon Maggie and Greg were clearing the plates away, Mycroft thanking Maggie once again for a lovely dinner. Maggie just smiled and pulled the freezer open before frowning.

'Hmm, we're out of ice-cream,' she said in a way that made Mycroft think she _knew_ there was no ice-cream before she'd opened the door. Maggie turned to her son. 'Greg, can you run to the store?'

'What?' Greg said. He'd sat back at the table beside Mycroft and looked up at his mother.

'We're out of ice-cream,' Maggie repeated. She went to her purse and dug around before producing ten quid. 'Run and get some of that cookies and cream one you like; is that okay with you, Mycroft?'

Mycroft nodded and Greg took the money. 'Um... okay,' Greg said, standing. 'I'll just be ten minutes.' He glanced at Mycroft, who nodded that he'd be fine, before grabbing a jacket and leaving.

Maggie stood at the counter filling the sink with hot water, Mycroft watching her and fidgeting. Finally Maggie said, 'So what's up, Mycroft?'

Mycroft jumped and said, 'How did you-'

'Know that you wanted to speak to me?' Maggie cut in, glancing over her shoulder. When Mycroft nodded she said, 'I'm constantly watching Greg try to tell me something only to back down. So; what is it, Mycroft?'

'Um... well...' Mycroft took a deep breath and stood, leaning against the counter beside Maggie. 'I just wanted to say that... Gregory hasn't corrupted me in any way, if you were worried about that.'

Maggie turned the taps off and rubbed her hands dry, giving Mycroft her full attention.

'I'm guessing that you were worried- what with Gregory's reputation and personality, and mine,' Mycroft continued. 'So I wanted you to know that _I_ initiated this... what Gregory and I have.'

' _You_ initiated it?' Maggie asked in surprise.

Mycroft nodded. 'I kissed him at a party just over two months ago, I started this, so... it's not Greg's fault, he's done nothing wrong.'

'Okay...' Maggie said slowly. 'But Mycroft, I have to ask... you and my son appear _very_ different, why would you want him?' When Mycroft raised an eyebrow, she quickly added, 'Don't get me wrong, I love my son, and I think he's an amazing young man. But he has his faults like we all do, and you two just seem so different.'

Mycroft wet his lips and took another deep breath, staring at the counter as he spoke. 'I lost my virginity when I was fourteen to a one-night stand,' he admitted. 'I've been sleeping around since then and I've never had a serious partner.

'I smoke, I spend my weekends getting drunk, and I love punk and alternative rock music. I skip school when I get bored, I swear when people annoy me, and I...' Mycroft trailed off and blushed slightly. 'I think you get my point.'

'Yeah,' Maggie nodded, eyes slightly wide in surprise. 'You're saying that-'

'I'm just like Gregory,' Mycroft cut in. 'I enjoy the same pastimes, the same music, and we have similar personalities. What you see, who the public and my family see, it's not who I am,' Mycroft admitted. 'I act like a polite, well-respected young man because I was brought up to act that way. If my parents knew I smoked, or knew that I was gay, they-' He cut himself off, looking away and biting his lip hard.

'Mycroft,' Maggie said softly.

'My point is, Gregory didn't corrupt me,' Mycroft said, breathing out heavily. 'I was corrupted long before we met.'

Maggie looked the teenager over carefully when he was done, Mycroft staring pointedly at the counter, fingers drumming lightly on the top.

'Okay,' Maggie finally said, 'so that's what Greg meant.'

'Pardon?'

'He said you weren't what you appeared to be,' Maggie said.

'No,' Mycroft smiled slightly, 'I'm definitely not what people expect.'

'Isn't it hard pretending to be something you aren't?'

Mycroft shrugged. 'I've been doing it my whole life.' He glanced at the sink and said, 'Would you like some help?'

'That would be lovely,' Maggie smiled. Mycroft gave her a hesitant one in response and the two rolled their sleeves up, Maggie washing while Mycroft dried the plates. 'Can I ask you something?' Maggie said after a few minutes.

'You just did, but you may ask me another question.'

Maggie chuckled, thinking there was still a lot of the polite young gentleman in Mycroft Holmes. 'Do you like my son?'

'Of course I do,' Mycroft answered.

'No, I mean do you _like_ my son,' Maggie said.

Mycroft hesitated, eyes suddenly staring hard at the plate he was holding.

'Mycroft?'

'I... I don't think that matters,' Mycroft murmured, rubbing hard at the china he was holding. 'Greg doesn't like me.'

'Mycroft-'

'He doesn't,' Mycroft said sternly. 'Gregory's young, he's just having fun. I accepted that long ago.'

'Oh, Mycroft,' Maggie sighed. 'Why would you put yourself in a situation where you'll get your heart broken?'

Mycroft gulped thickly, eyes wavering as he put the plate in the rack. 'Sometimes having a bit of something you want is better than having nothing at all,' he said softly.

Maggie bit her lip before saying, 'You know, I don't think you _will_ get your heart broken.'

Mycroft frowned. 'Pardon?'

'My son sometimes needs some time to figure out what he wants,' Maggie said. 'But when he does he won't let go, Mycroft.'

'I... I don't understand.'

Maggie smiled at him, Mycroft frowning in confusion. 'I don't think you and my son are that different, Mycroft,' she said. 'In the heart or in the mind.'

'What?'

'I'm back!' Greg called, making Mycroft jump. Maggie smiled and dried her hands again, taking the bag off her son.

'You and Mycroft go watch TV, I'll dish this up,' Maggie said.

'You sure?' Greg asked.

Maggie nodded and Mycroft glanced at her before following Greg into the sitting room.


	32. I Know Him So Well

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** I Know Him So Well [Cover] by John Barrowman  & Daniel Boys
> 
> **Author's Note:** Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, I really appreciate it :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

As usual, Greg made his way to the library as soon as the bell went for lunch. Sometimes he and Mycroft didn't bother eating, but most of the time they munched on sandwiches, crisps, and chocolate when the librarians weren't looking.

Greg hadn't seen Mycroft all day and when he entered the library he saw that their usual table was empty. Deciding to wait before texting the other teenager, Greg grabbed his bag and pulled all his stuff out, spreading paper and textbooks across his side of the desk.

Ten minutes later Mycroft still wasn't there and Greg frowned, pulling out his mobile.

 

**Where are you?**

 

He scratched at his notebook with his pen, eyes drifting around the room and taking in the students that usually spent their lunches doing work or goofing around. His mobile buzzed and Greg swiped his thumb over the touch screen.

 

_I had a business meeting today at ten and decided not to come into school. Why, do you miss me? - M_

 

Greg felt annoyed that Mycroft hadn't bothered telling him, but quickly pushed those feelings down. Mycroft didn't owe him anything- they weren't _dating_. So Mycroft could do what he wanted, right? He didn't have to call Greg.

 

**Oh, right. No, I don't miss you, just wonderin', is all :)**

 

_Don't lie to me, Gregory dear - M_

 

**I ain't lying, Mycroft darling. Are you coming to the party Saturday night?**

 

_The one at Matthew Sanders' house? - M_

 

**That's the one.**

 

_Most likely, unless something comes up - M_

 

**Well, just let me know.**

 

_Aww, you DO miss me :) - M_

 

**Fuck off.**

 

_Kisses - M_

 

Greg chuckled and put his phone away, ducking his head when one of the librarians, Miss Fiona, glared at him from where she was stacking books.

Greg sat in the library and did his Sociology and English Literature homework, finishing both before the bell rang and feeling proud. Usually he got a kiss from Mycroft when he'd completed something and felt put out that the red-head wasn't there to do just that.

He pulled out his mobile after he'd put his stuff away, bag slung over one shoulder as he texted.

 

**I did my English Lit AND Sociology homework.**

 

Greg got to his locker and grabbed his PE gear as well as his Science stuff and bumped into Dimmock as he walked to the science block.

'You missed the _best_ fight,' Dimmock gushed, practically bouncing as he walked.

'Fight?' Greg asked.

Dimmock nodded and said, 'John Ralling was caught snogging Andy-'

' _What_?' Greg broke in, eyes widening as he stopped.

Dimmock stopped too and nodded. 'Yup. Apparently they've been shagging ever since a certain genius rode John.'

'No fucking way!'

'Lestrade!' one of the History teachers, Mr James, shouted.

'Sorry!' Greg replied.

'Honestly, there's a time and place,' James said, putting his hands on his hips.

'What, like last period history?' Greg asked. Mr James had the tendency to swear loudly when he hurt himself, and was always bumping into things. He'd been Greg's history teacher before Greg dropped the subject; at Baker Street you were expected to take between five and seven A-levels, while at less selective schools you only had to take three, sometimes four.

Mr James was a good teacher, though, and Greg had considered sticking with history just to watch the man's antics.

Mr James blushed slightly and said, 'Well, that's different...' he trailed off when Greg raised an eyebrow. 'Go to class!' he snapped and retreated quickly into his classroom, Greg snickering.

The teenager turned back to Dimmock and said, 'Are you bloody serious?'

'Yup,' his best friend nodded, getting right back into the conversation. 'John and Andy are _dating_.'

'Jesus, Mycroft turned John Ralling,' Greg mused.

Dimmock snickered and started walking again as the corridors began to thin. 'Anyway, so a couple of the upper sixth formers found John and Andy snogging behind the hall and tried to beat the crap out of them.'

'Who won?' Greg asked.

'John and Andy,' Dimmock grinned. 'Andy beat the crap out of two of them and John got the last three. Seriously, for a small bloke Andy can fucking punch.'

'Goddamn it,' Greg groaned. 'I always miss the best shit.'

'Well if you weren't in the library with _Mycroft_ ,' Dimmock grinned.

Greg rolled his eyes. 'Actually, Mycroft isn't here today.'

Dimmock stopped again and Greg did too, turning to look at him. 'Seriously?' Dimmock asked. Greg nodded. 'Mycroft's not here today?'

'I texted him, he said he had some business meeting earlier so decided to skive school.'

'Huh,' Dimmock said, starting to walk again. Greg hurried to catch up.

'What?'

'Just...' Dimmock mused.

'What is it?' Greg demanded.

'Well... Mycroft isn't here,' Dimmock said slowly, 'so where were you at lunch?'

Greg blinked. 'The library,' he said.

'Right, right,' Dimmock nodded, wetting his lips. 'So... Mycroft isn't here,' he continued, 'but you still went to the library?'

'Um...'

'And did...?'

'Homework,' Greg mumbled.

'You spent all of lunch doing homework,' Dimmock said, 'and Mycroft wasn't even there?'

Greg felt colour heating his cheeks and said, 'Well... I texted him a bit.'

'Why didn't you come hang with us?' Dimmock asked.

'I... I dunno,' Greg said honestly. He realised he hadn't even thought about leaving the library. Four days out of five he went to the library at lunch. It had become a bit of a routine for him and Mycroft. Greg hadn't even thought to go hang out with Dimmock, Joe and Dylan when he'd learned that Mycroft wasn't there.

Dimmock was chuckling and Greg looked at him. 'What?'

'Jesus Christ, Mycroft isn't even here and you're whipped,' Dimmock giggled as they reached their classroom.

'Shut up,' Greg scowled. He felt his phone buzz but waited until Mr Westen had told them off for being late to check it. He sat on his stool next to Dimmock, with BJ beside Dimmock.

 

_Very good, Gregory. You get two treats ;) - M_

 

Greg grinned and texted back, not realising Dimmock and BJ were looking at him.

 

**YAY!**

 

_I'm laughing at your enthusiasm - M_

 

**Well how can I NOT be happy when I get two very delicious snogs?**

 

_You're a strange child - M_

 

**Well I DO hang out with you; there's gotta be something wrong with me.**

 

_Ooh, I'm hurt - M_

 

**Are not, you weirdo.**

 

_What are you doing? - M_

 

**Sitting in Science.**

 

_Pay attention in class, Gregory dear. We wouldn't want you to get any more detentions, would we? - M_

 

**Oh, I dunno, I quite like detentions; picking up rubbish, doing lines. Turns me on.**

 

_You have strange kinks - M_

 

**Well you're the one who follows me around when I pick up rubbish; that's just a little bit kinkier.**

 

_Touche, Gregory dear - M_

 

**:D**

 

'What's Lestrade smiling about?' BJ whispered to Dimmock when Mr Westen had his back turned.

'One guess,' Dimmock muttered as Greg texted away, mobile beneath the black workbench.

BJ looked at Dimmock for a few seconds before realisation set in. 'Mikey?'

'Mikey,' Dimmock nodded. 'He only ever smiles like that when his boyfriend's involved.'

BJ chuckled. 'Who are they kidding?'

'Only themselves, mate,' Dimmock said.

Greg was oblivious as he continued to text Mycroft, both Dimmock and BJ snickering beside him.

 

{oOo}

 

It was another one of those days where Mycroft had to "babysit" Sherlock and John. The airquotes were always used because Sherlock and John, as they'd shouted at Mycroft and their parents, were thirteen-years-old; they didn't _need_ a babysitter.

But still, no one in their right mind would leave the two teenagers alone together, even with adult supervision. Something was bound to blow up, or go missing, or they'd end up trying to sneak away to the local police station in hopes of fighting crime. Mycroft was the only one who had a hope of stopping Sherlock and John from going insane.

So once again the elder Holmes found himself stuck in the sitting room, the large windows to his left pushed open so he could enjoy a cigarette. Sherlock had already tried to nick his packet but John had talked him into playing with the chemistry set Sherlock had bought a week earlier.

After making sure there was nothing too lethal in the box (and making sure Sherlock couldn't make anything harmless actually lethal) the older teenager had retreated to the windowsill with an ashtray, a bottle of scotch he'd nicked from Siger Holmes, and a book.

It was still early in the afternoon and Mycroft couldn't help feeling put-out; he should have been in his secret room where he had good music, cheap alcohol, and an endless supply of internet porn to keep him going until he next saw Greg. As it was, he was stuck looking after two teenagers and texting Greg. While it was fun messaging the other teenager, Mycroft preferred to speak in person.

 

**Ahahahahahahahahahahahahaha...**

 

There were about forty more A's and H's in Greg's message, but Mycroft chose to reply without reading them all.

 

_It's not funny. YOU try babysitting Sherlock without a bottle of tranquilisers - M_

 

Greg had been less than supportive of Mycroft's afternoon, instead preferring to tease Mycroft about his babysitting duties.

 

**Well sorry, but it's funny; Mycroft Holmes: Nanny.**

 

_I'm not a nanny - M_

 

Mycroft scowled as he sent the text and sipped from the glass tumbler he'd poured Siger's scotch into. He turned slightly to see that Sherlock was making something that would no doubt corrode the floorboards beneath him as John watched on, muttering, 'Brilliant,' and, 'Amazing,' under his breath.

 

**NANNY! You should definitely think about it as a career :D**

 

Mycroft sighed and drained his glass before texting back.

 

_You're a riot, Gregory dear - M_

 

**You love it, Mycroft darling ;)**

 

That had Mycroft smiling and he texted back before he re-filled his glass. He swirled the amber liquid before taking a sip, and enjoyed the way it burned down his throat.

'He's got that look,' Sherlock said suddenly, forcing both Mycroft and John to look at him.

'What?' John said.

'Mycroft,' Sherlock said, turning his blue-grey eyes onto his brother. 'He's got _that_ look.'

John blinked as Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'What look?' John asked.

'The one he gets when he's texting _Gregory_ ,' Sherlock snickered.

'I don't have a look, brother dear,' Mycroft said, trying not to shout; why did Sherlock have to ruin _everything_? Couldn't Mycroft be left alone to text his... whatever Greg was?

'You mean Lestrade?' John whispered, like he wasn't allowed to know about Greg Lestrade and what he and Mycroft were doing. He _wouldn't_ know if Sherlock didn't feel the need to tell his best-friend-not-boyfriend _everything_.

'Yes, him,' Sherlock nodded. 'If they'd just bloody shag already-'

'Sherlock!' Mycroft snapped, making the other Holmes go quiet. 'My sex life is none of your business.'

'Well it's true,' Sherlock grumbled. 'If you'd stop bloody pussy-footing around him and just _have_ sex, I wouldn't have to deal with the stupid looks you get whenever the idiot contacts you.'

Mycroft scowled. 'Gregory isn't an idiot.'

Sherlock made a flapping motion with his hand as he said, 'He _is_ an idiot and _you're_ acting like one around him.'

John, who knew all about Mycroft's sexual exploits (Sherlock told him _everything_ ) asked, 'Um... why haven't you shagged?'

Mycroft rolled his eyes and looked away as his phone buzzed, signalling an incoming text from Greg.

 

Now, now, no need to be nasty. Can't you ditch the kiddies and come hang out?

 

'See!' Sherlock said, pointing at his brother, who quickly wiped away the smile that had tugged at his lips. 'Stupid bloody smiles.'

'Um...' John hummed.

Sherlock glared at his best friend. 'You mean you don't see what he's doing?'

John blinked at the sudden question. 'What?'

Mycroft ignored them as he texted Greg.

 

_I'm afraid I can't; last time I left them alone, Sherlock drilled a hole into the fridge and John ate his body weight in jelly babies – M_

 

'Mycroft, as usual, has a plan,' Sherlock said.

'Sherlock,' Mycroft sighed, rubbing his eyes. A headache was already threatening to break free and he wasn't even drunk.

'He fancies Lestrade,' Sherlock continued, ignoring his brother.

'Well, yeah,' John nodded, 'I know _that_.'

Mycroft's BlackBerry buzzed and he glanced down at it as Sherlock groaned.

 

**That's an odd way to spend the afternoon.**

 

'How can people be so stupid?' Sherlock demanded, glaring at John. 'Mycroft _likes_ Lestrade. _Lestrade_ is a slut. If Mycroft just jumped into bed with him, Lestrade would move on and Mycroft would get his heart broken.'

'Sherlock,' Mycroft tried again. He took a large gulp of scotch as Sherlock continued anyway.

'So Mycroft's stringing him along for a bit; he got Lestrade interested, kept the idiot's attention. Now Lestrade wants more, he's getting to _know_ Mycroft,' Sherlock explained, John nodding. 'Soon Lestrade won't just want sex. He'll want Mycroft; as a friend, boyfriend, _everything_.'

'Oh,' John said, ' _oohh_... Mycroft made Lestrade get to know him and not just as a shag... right.'

Mycroft sighed.

'Exactly!' Sherlock said, looking pleased that John had got it. 'Lestrade won't just want a shag now, he'll want the whole package. Mycroft played this whole thing to perfection; show the boy slut what he's got to get the boy slut's interest; keep that interest by acting like a prick while snogging him senseless; let the boy slut see a bit of the real him and boy slut will keep coming back.'

Sherlock grinned. 'And it all ends with brother dear and boy slut living happily ever after with a civil partnership, some adopted kiddies, and massive amounts of shag-'

'Sherlock,' Mycroft cut in, making the two teenagers look at him, 'if you don't want to be locked in a cupboard for the day, I suggest you shut your fucking mouth.'

Sherlock poked his tongue out. 'Who am I, Harry Potter?'

'How about we test that?' Mycroft snarled. 'I'll lock you in, you point a stick at the door and see if it can magic you out!'

Sherlock pouted as Mycroft finished his second glass of scotch, quickly refilling the glass.

After a few minutes of silence John said, 'You don't know who the Doctor is but Harry Potter you know?'

Sherlock threw him a grin and Mycroft sighed as John flushed pink, quickly going back to the concoction Sherlock had spread between them.

Mrs Hudson came in a few minutes later with a tray of sandwiches and drinks. She was Mrs Lander's sister and had come up from London to take care of Sherlock and Mycroft while Mrs Lander went to visit her sick father-in-law. She was also taking care of Anthea, who didn't want to travel all the way to Scotland to see a grandfather she didn't know.

Mrs Hudson was a nice woman who didn't seem to mind Sherlock and Mycroft's anti-social behaviour, or the younger Holmes' attitude. What was weird was Sherlock had taken to the woman like fire to a house, always showing off his experiments, his intelligence, and his absolute favourite thing in the world; John.

Mrs Hudson also seemed to be the only person allowed to hint at John and Sherlock having a relationship that went beyond friendship. Both boys blushed and smiled at each other whenever she stated that they made a cute couple and it made Mycroft want to drown himself in alcohol.

'Mycroft, what are you drinking?' Mrs Hudson asked.

'Apple juice,' the teenager muttered. He wasn't looking at her and squawked in indignation when she swiped the glass and bottle from him. 'Excuse me!'

'You're too young for alcohol,' Mrs Hudson said, walking away before Mycroft could grab the bottle back.

'Mrs Hudson-'

'No, Mycroft,' the woman said. 'I know you teenagers are always wanting to break the rules, but while I'm looking after you, you will _not_ get drunk, am I clear?'

Mycroft scowled at her and turned away when she raised an eyebrow. She left the room after telling the three boys to eat and Sherlock snickered.

'Shut up,' Mycroft growled.

Sherlock poked his tongue out while John giggled.


	33. Unforgettable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Unforgettable by Nat King Cole
> 
>  **Author's Note:** Ahahahahaha, I keep lying; Mycroft and Greg won't get together until chapter 40, and sex doesn't come until after that. I know, I know, I'm evil; but I can't help it. I've had most of the story planned out for a month yet every time I sit down to write, more and more crap spews from my brain and I end up making all the chapters way too long and then I have to cut them. Blame my muse (Johnny); I do.
> 
> Anywho, I promise proper Mystrade is coming soon. And after that there's all manner of sexytimes.
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

Greg had gone home to change into jeans and a band shirt before heading to Holmes Manor. He pulled up in front of the large, wrought-iron gates, straddling his bike as he looked at the cursive H that had been moulded onto the front of the black gates. There was a security hut beside the gates built into the sandstone, but it was empty. Greg could see a keypad to the right, as well as a camera, and wondered if he could press a few buttons without the cops being called.

He was about to try when a silver Jaguar convertible pulled up behind him with the top down. He turned and smiled when he recognised Anthea, the teenage girl pulling off her sunglasses.

'Gregory?' she questioned.

'Um... hi,' Greg said, feeling his cheeks heat up. 'I was just... um...'

'Looking for Mycroft?' Anthea said.

Greg nodded. 'I heard he was babysitting Sherlock and John and thought he might like some company.'

Anthea smiled as she stepped from her car and walked to the keypad.

'What's with you lot and Jags?' he questioned.

'Jags are nice cars,' Anthea shrugged. She pulled a white plastic card from her jeans and swiped it through the keypad before going back to her car. Once inside the gates started to open and she said, 'Follow me.'

Greg quickly turned his bike on and left his helmet hanging from the handlebars while he followed her, his eyes taking in the Holmes estate as he did. It was all lush, smooth lawns, manicured trees and bushes, and the odd marble fountain filled with pebbles and clear water. Greg wondered just why anyone needed this much crap; what was wrong with a simple lawn and letter box?

Shaking his head, Greg followed Anthea's Jag to the garage to the right of the large manor house, parking inside when Anthea directed him to. Mycroft's green Jaguar was already parked in there, as well as a small red car he hadn't seen before. Beside that was a Harley Davidson that made Greg's jaw drop.

'Mycroft bought it a week ago,' Anthea said as she turned her car off and climbed out. 'Said he wanted to learn how to ride.'

'Damn,' Greg said, staring at the bike as he got off his own. 'Mycroft has good taste. This is an '84 Softail.' His eyes took in the red chrome finish, the perfect leather seats, as well as the brown leather saddlebags. 'Mycroft won't be able to ride this till he's older, he knows that, right?'

'Since when have rules ever stopped Mycroft?' Anthea said.

Greg chuckled as he followed her from the garage.

They walked towards the house, the grass beneath them bright green beneath their feet.

'Besides,' Anthea said suddenly, making Greg look at her, 'I think Mycroft's going to buy another one. But he saw this when he went to talk to some guy about Harleys and...' she trailed off and shrugged.

Greg just whistled. 'So, um...' he said after a few minutes. 'Where's Mycroft?'

'No idea,' Anthea said, already tapping at her BlackBerry. 'Usually he watches Sherlock and John in the sitting room, but they've probably managed to run off by now. As long as they don't destroy the house, Mycroft lets them go.'

'Right, right,' Greg nodded. He looked around at the grounds a bit more before turning to ask Anthea another question-

\- only to find that she'd disappeared. He froze before turning around, spinning in the grass and looking around.

'How the fuck did she do that?' Greg asked himself. He looked around a bit more before he sighed and looked up at the house. 'Second floor,' he mused and started to walk again, remembering Mycroft saying his bedroom was on the second floor. 'Maybe I can find a ladder,' he continued to mumble to himself while he walked.

Greg was just walking around the side of the house when he heard, 'What are you doing?'

He jumped and turned, ready to run if it was Mr Holmes, or maybe a security guard. Instead he found himself face-to-face with John Watson.

Greg breathed a sigh of relief as he looked the other teenager over. John was still in his uniform but had a red and black striped jumper over the top. His head was tilted, dark blue eyes on Greg.

'Um...' Greg said, clearing his throat. 'John Watson, right?' John nodded. 'I was just... um... I was...'

'Looking for Mycroft's room?' John asked.

Greg blushed and ran a hand through his hair. 'Well, I was... yeah, just... just lookin'.'

John nodded slowly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

'What are you doin' here?' Greg asked.

'Looking for Sherlock,' John said. 'He ran off about half-an-hour ago, said something about bees...' He trailed off and shrugged. 'Anyway, Mycroft's bedroom's around the other side of the house, on the second floor, and you won't be able to climb in the window.'

'Oh,' Greg mumbled, 'I... wasn't-'

John snorted, making Greg cut himself off. 'Whatever you say, dude,' the younger teen shrugged. 'Come on, I'll take you to him.'

'Really?' Greg asked. John nodded. 'Why?'

'Why not?' John shrugged. 'I'm not doing anything, and if someone who works here sees you skulking about they'll call security. I doubt Mycroft would like seeing you arrested... or maybe he would, who knows?'

Greg followed John around the house, watching the shorter boy as he walked. 'So... you've been Sherlock's mate since the Holmeses moved here, yeah?'

'Yeah, about two years now,' John nodded. 'On his first day Sherlock managed to make everyone hate him... well, first five minutes everyone hated him.' Greg snorted. 'But he's brilliant,' John continued, a smile tugging at his lips, blue eyes suddenly wide. 'He's just... amazing, ya know?'

'Mm,' Greg hummed.

'He's brilliant and funny and can be such a child sometimes,' John smiled, 'but all of that makes him... Sherlock.'

Greg watched John carefully as he spoke and realised the other teen really _was_ in love with Sherlock. Sure, they were only thirteen, but Greg knew that nothing was normal around the Holmes boys. And if John could put up with Sherlock's crazy behaviour and still be his mate than it really was true love.

They entered the house through a side door that took them into a large kitchen. There was one man in there dressed in a black suit and he stopped when he saw them.

'This is Greg, Mycroft's mate,' John told the man. 'Greg, this is Mr Andrew, he takes care of food.'

'And the boys,' Mr Andrew smiled, eyes suddenly soft. 'Nice to meet you, Greg.'

'Nice to meet you too,' Greg said politely, looking nervous.

Mr Andrew chuckled. 'Don't worry, Mr and Mrs Holmes aren't here. Siger's out on business for the next few days and Meghan's at some charity event. You're safe.'

Greg blushed and John chuckled as he continued through the kitchen and into the house itself. Greg was stunned by the sheer elegance of the place. It was more a museum than a house, or maybe a palace; everything was perfect. There was wallpaper in every room, the halls panelled with chocolate-coloured wood.

The entrance hall was the same with varnished, dark brown floorboards, while the other rooms and staircase were covered in thick rugs in beige, cream, and emerald green.

There were expensive and probably original paintings along every wall, vases and other knick-knacks on the tables, and Greg's eyes widened when he looked up to see chandeliers.

'Jesus Christ,' he gaped as he followed John over to the staircase.

'Yeah, it's a bit much,' John said. 'But Siger Holmes is a show off.'

Greg tore his eyes away from the interior and looked at John. 'You don't like him?'

'I fucking hate him,' John muttered. 'He's a bastard, ya know? He doesn't care about Sherlock or Mycroft, he's more interested in keeping the Holmes name in the right circles than asking how his sons are doing.'

Greg frowned as John talked.

'It's like he's just blank when it comes to Sherlock and Mycroft,' John continued. 'He's a bloody homophobe, he doesn't care about them, he's just... a bastard,' John shrugged. 'And he doesn't like me, keeps calling me a fairy.'

'Oh, he reckons you're gay?' Greg asked.

John nodded. 'Just 'cause me and Sherlock are best friends and we don't hang out with anyone else. Of course that means we're shaggin', let's forget that we're bloody thirteen.'

Greg chuckled and shook his head as they entered a long hallway done in green and black wallpaper, the carpet beneath them grey.

'Anyway, I try not to think about him,' John said. 'And I let Sherlock rant when he wants. It's good to get it off your chest.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'I know the feeling.'

John stopped suddenly before a large wooden door, dark blue eyes on Greg. 'You got father issues?'

'Um... I suppose,' Greg said. 'Don't have a dad, so...' He shrugged and John nodded.

'My dad's a prat,' John said. 'He doesn't like Sherlock, but he's not homophobic or anything. He just hates Sherlock and Mycroft.'

'Sorry 'bout that.'

'Not your fault,' John shrugged. He knocked on the door and the two waited in silence.

A few minutes later the door opened and Mycroft appeared. He was wearing a pair of tight, dark grey jeans with two chains hanging from the right pocket, a white and black studded belt, red high-topped Chucks, and a blue and white striped sweater that hugged his torso perfectly.

Though his face was clear of makeup, and his hair was perfectly styled, he had silver necklaces hanging from his neck and chunky black bracelets wrapped around his wrists.

'Hi,' Greg said, blushing as he looked Mycroft over. _Damn_ was the guy gorgeous.

'What are you doing here?' Mycroft asked, his own eyes roaming over Greg. Greg had dressed up a bit- though he'd deny it if anyone other than Mycroft asked. He was wearing skinny black jeans, black Chucks, a Living End band shirt, and a blue pinstriped waistcoat that he'd bought a few days ago. His hair was a tangle of spikes and curls and he'd given his face a wash before coming over.

'Um... just... thought you could use the c-company,' Greg stuttered, suddenly wondering if Mycroft would be annoyed or angry that he'd turned up un-announced.

He needn't worry; a smile tugged at Mycroft's face and he crossed the distance between them, pressing a soft kiss to Greg's lips.

'Hi,' Greg breathed heavily when they broke apart.

'Hello,' Mycroft chuckled. He turned to John. 'Thank you.'

'No worries,' John said. 'I better go find Sherlock before he sets something on fire.'

Mycroft nodded and said, 'Remember, if Sherlock does _anything_ you'll both be on house arrest listening to me go on and on about sex.'

John turned bright red and nodded vigorously, Greg chuckling. When the teenager turned to practically run down the hallway, Greg turned after him.

'Hey, John!' Greg called out, catching up to the younger teenager at the end of the hall.

'What?' John asked.

Greg paused, wondering why he was doing this. And then he remembered Dimmock being there for him and figured he'd at least make sure that John had someone to talk to.

'Um... listen, if you ever need to talk to anyone, I'm here,' Greg said.

John raised an eyebrow. 'Why would I need to talk to you?'

'Well, you know, about... stuff,' Greg said. John continued to look confused. 'Um,' Greg tried again, 'just... if you ever, you know, think that you feel different around people like... well, like Sherlock, you can... you know, talk to me.'

John frowned until realisation dawned across his face. He turned pink and shuffled about, arms crossing over his chest. 'I don't... l-like Sherlock,' he mumbled.

Greg smiled. ''Course you don't.'

'I don't!' John hissed. 'Why do people keep saying that? I'm not gay!'

'I never said you were,' Greg shrugged, holding his hands up. 'All I'm sayin' is I'm here to talk, alright? Mycroft's got my mobile number, just give us a call or a text if you ever wanna chat, even about other stuff, alright?'

John was still pink but managed to nod, mumble a goodbye, and stalk away. Greg watched him go, smiling as the teenager disappeared.

 

{oOo}

 

'What was that about?' Mycroft asked when Greg re-appeared.

'Just told John I'm available to chat if he has any problems,' Greg said as he walked into the bedroom. Mycroft shut the door and Greg turned to face him, eyebrows raised. 'He _so_ loves Sherlock,' he grinned.

Mycroft chuckled and wrapped his arms around Greg, pulling him closer. He pressed a soft kiss to Greg's lips and said, 'You, suddenly here... it's a nice surprise.'

'Yeah?' Greg asked, his own hands on Mycroft's hips. 'I woulda called first but... well...'

'Gregory, relax,' Mycroft smiled, 'you're always welcome here.'

'Oh, yeah?' Greg said. 'So if I get pissed and roll around in some dirt, you'll welcome me with open arms?'

'Why are you rolling around in dirt?' Mycroft questioned.

Greg groaned and buried his face in Mycroft's neck. 'Just answer the bloody question.'

Mycroft smiled against the side of Greg's head. 'Yes, I'd welcome you here, even if you're covered in dirt.'

'Should test that theory,' Greg smiled.

'I'd much prefer you stay right here,' Mycroft said.

'Oh yeah?'

'Yes.'

Greg grinned and trailed a finger down Mycroft's chest. 'So...'

'So...?' Mycroft echoed.

'I finished my homework,' Greg said. Mycroft chuckled, a smile tugging at his lips. 'Do I get my treats now?'

'If you wish,' Mycroft said, 'but you'll have to come get them.'

Greg pulled back and Mycroft smiled at him before their lips pressed together, the two soon lost in the simple act of kissing each other. Greg groaned and threaded his fingers through Mycroft's hair, messing up the perfectly styled locks.

Suddenly Mycroft pulled back and Greg whined, a pout pulling at his lips as the younger teen looked him over.

'I like the outfit,' Mycroft said. He ran his fingers over the blue pinstriped waistcoat Greg was wearing.

'I clean up good, don't I?' Greg grinned.

Mycroft chuckled and tugged him towards the bed, Greg letting himself be pulled along. 'Yes you do, Gregory dear,' Mycroft said.

He pushed Greg back and the older teen grunted as he fell onto the bed. Mycroft smiled down at him and waved his hands, making Greg scramble back across the mattress. He spread his legs as Mycroft climbed onto the bed, the red-head soon crawling between Greg's legs and hovering over him.

Greg grabbed Mycroft by the neck and dragged him down, sealing their lips back together and making Mycroft moan. The genius shifted about before settling atop Greg, Greg's legs winding around his hips and pulling him further forward.

'So demanding,' Mycroft tisked, breathing against Greg's lips.

'I'm a bastard like that,' Greg said.

Mycroft chuckled before he was silenced, Greg's lips once more pressed against his own.

Their lips started warm and gentle, small pecks with only the hint of tongue here and there. Soon Greg was deepening it, legs becoming tighter around Mycroft's waist, his arms trying to drag the younger teen closer and closer.

Suddenly Greg ripped their lips apart. Panting, Mycroft said, 'What?'

'We're not g-gonna get caught, are we?' Greg asked, breathing heavily. 'Like, your nanny won't come in and-'

Mycroft cut him off with a kiss. 'No, Greg,' he said when he drew back, only for his lips to move across Greg's cheek and jaw, slowly travelling to his ear.

Greg moaned loudly when Mycroft started sucking on the spot just below his ear.

'Mrs Hudson will be busy making dinner with Mr Andrew,' Mycroft breathed across Greg's ear. 'Sherlock and John will be busy doing whatever it is thirteen-year-olds do in the grounds, and you and I won't be disturbed until someone comes to collect me for dinner at seven. So we have...'

He trailed off and sat up, grabbing his BlackBerry from the bedside table.

'We have just over two hours to do whatever we want to do together,' Mycroft said. He looked back at Greg, whose pupils were dilated. 'So...'

Greg tugged him back down and mashed their mouths together. Mycroft grunted until he shifted a bit, his head tilted to get a better angle at Greg's mouth, his groin pressed up against Greg's.

'Mmm,' Greg moaned against Mycroft's mouth, wiggling against the bed- and against Mycroft.

Mycroft groaned as a shot of pleasure radiated out from his crotch, making him press down harder against the warm body beneath him. Greg's right hand tangled through Mycroft's hair and tugged on the soft strands, while his left hand travelled up and down Mycroft's back, mapping the skin and muscles through his shirt.

Mycroft tugged Greg closer by the hips, Greg moaning as he arched up to keep them connected. While it felt great, there was too much clothing in the way, so Mycroft pulled back to rip at Greg's jeans.

Greg lifted his hips and Mycroft slid the denim and boxers down just far enough to free Greg's cock. The thick flesh stood tall against Greg's stomach, swollen and leaking pre-come. Mycroft wrapped his right hand around the length and tugged, Greg moaning, head thrusting back into the pillows.

'Beautiful,' Mycroft hummed, pressing soft kisses to Greg's neck. 'Absolutely beautiful.' He continued to stroke softly, revelling in having Greg so thick and heavy in his hand.

'Uuh... M-Mycroft,' Greg moaned, head twisting this way and that. His entire body shuddered when Mycroft's thumb flicked over the head, spreading the thick pre-ejaculate that had been leaking since Greg first kissed Mycroft.

'What do you want?' Mycroft asked, voice a whisper across Greg's skin. He tugged on Greg's cock. 'What do you want, Greg?'

Greg whimpered and bit his lip before taking a deep breath. 'W-Want you... on t-top of m-me,' he groaned. 'P-Please.'

Mycroft smiled and drew back, letting go of Greg and earning a groan of annoyance. Mycroft chuckled and undid his belt, the button and zip of his jeans following. He pushed them and his underwear aside, freeing his own raging erection.

He palmed himself and moaned, blue eyes darting over Greg's body. He couldn't believe how easy it was for him to get aroused around Greg. All Greg had to do was smile, or look at him- hell, he just had to be standing _near_ him and Mycroft was in danger of blowing his load.

Not that Mycroft would ever tell _Greg_ that. The other teen would never stop teasing him.

'Hurry up,' Greg grunted, ever impatient. Mycroft smiled as he shifted between Greg's legs, once more hovering over the brunette. Before Mycroft could do anything else, Greg's legs were wrapped around his arse, fingers digging into Mycroft's hips as he dragged the auburn-haired teen down.

They both let out gasps of pleasure as their erections slid against each other. Mycroft took a minute to enjoy the simple feeling of him and Greg being pressed together; it never failed to make his toes curl, having Greg against him, skin on skin.

And of course Greg wouldn't wait and pulled Mycroft down, crushing their mouths together, his tongue thrusting into Mycroft's mouth and exploring thoroughly.

Mycroft moaned and started thrusting, his cock sliding against Greg's. Greg whimpered and arched up, hips rolling as he helped them push against each other. Mycroft's hands moved from Greg's hips and pushed up his shirt, touching warm, smooth skin.

Greg moaned against Mycroft's mouth, sucking on his tongue as Mycroft's fingers trailed up and down his sides, across his stomach, following the trail of dark hairs up to Greg's chest.

He brushed over both nipples and felt Greg shudder against him. Fresh pleasure coursed through Greg's body as Mycroft's fingers brushed over both nipples, thumbs soon circling before rubbing hard against the small nubs.

'M-Mycroft,' Greg moaned, twisting away from Mycroft's lips to take deep breaths. His entire body was on fire, and every movement on Mycroft's part made Greg want to shout in pleasure.

Mycroft started licking and sucking on Greg's neck, teeth scraping along the smooth, over-heated skin. Greg couldn't help but cry out when he felt Mycroft's teeth sink into his neck, tongue running over his skin as he sucked back to form a bright red love-bite.

Greg was going to regret Mycroft marking him later, but right then he was too caught up in the moment to care. He ran his fingers through Mycroft's hair before tugging him back up for a kiss, their mouths sloppy against each other. Mycroft started moving quicker, grinding his crotch against Greg's, and the two moaned and grunted into each other's mouths.

Mycroft's left hand scratched up and down Greg's body, nails digging into his stomach and chest deliciously, while his right moved further and further down until his fingers were wrapping around both their cocks.

'Oh fuck,' Greg moaned.  
Mycroft ran his thumb over both their heads, spreading pre-come and using it to slick their cocks up. He shifted a bit before getting comfortable, hips rolling even as his hand moved up and down their shafts.

'Oh God, Mycroft, fuck, that's... ah... s-so good,' Greg babbled, head whipping from side to side.

Mycroft moaned in response and moved faster, his climax building in his gut. His entire body was like a string ready to snap, heat moving through his stomach and crotch. His head was starting to go fuzzy, thoughts winking out until only one remained; move faster, harder, touch Greg more.

Greg grabbed Mycroft by the head again, but this time his lips were soft and gentle. Mycroft peeled his eyes open and Greg rested their foreheads together, dark brown eyes locked onto Mycroft's bright blue ones.

They held eye contact, even while they thrust, rolled, and rutted together. Greg bit on his bottom lip hard, breathing ragged, and Mycroft panted loudly against him as he continued to jerk them off.

And then Greg's eyes slid shut, his mouth dropped open, and his entire body tensed as he shouted, 'Mycroft!'

Mycroft felt Greg's release drip down his hand, felt Greg's body go rigid beneath him. He moaned and continued to tug, harder and harder, wanting to follow Greg over the edge-

He came suddenly, crying out and burying his face in Greg's neck. He bit down hard on his shoulder and Greg whimpered as the two rode out their orgasms, panting and cussing against each other.

Finally Mycroft stopped moving, sitting between Greg's legs, face still against his neck. Greg groaned and reached up, running his fingers through Mycroft's hair softly.

'You okay?' Greg asked.

'Mm,' Mycroft hummed. Greg untangled his legs from around Mycroft's waist and the younger teen fell immediately, rolling onto his back and groaning.

'You got tissues?' Greg asked, looking down at the mess on his shirt and crotch. Mycroft nodded and groped for his bedside table, eventually opening the top drawer and pulling out a box of tissues. 'You ruined another one of my shirts,' Greg commented as he cleaned himself up.

Mycroft chuckled and when they were both clean- well, as clean as they could get- he tugged Greg in for a warm kiss. 'I'll make it up to you,' he said.

'You'd better,' Greg grinned before kissing him again.


	34. A Lonely September

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** A Lonely September by Plain White T's
> 
> **Author's Note:** If you aren't familiar with the song, I suggest you listen to it. It captures Greg and Mycroft's relationship so perfectly. It's also a fun song to play on guitar.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

'What you drinking?' Greg asked, glancing at the mug on the bedside table. He'd been staring at it for five minutes- still in a bit of a daze after sex with Mycroft- and had only looked away when he and Mycroft had both zipped themselves back up and laid down.

'Tea,' Mycroft answered without opening his eyes.

'Tea?' Greg mused. 'God, you're so British.'

'Well, yes, I _was_ born here,' Mycroft said.

Greg chuckled. 'Sorry, I just thought you'd be drinking... you know, bourbon or somethin'.'

'I _was_ drinking scotch, but Mrs Hudson took the bottle away.'

Greg rolled onto his side, head on his hand as he looked at Mycroft. 'Mrs Hudson?'

Mycroft nodded, eyes still closed as he answered. 'She's Mrs Lander's sister and is staying with us while Mrs and Mr Lander are in Scotland. She's taking care of me, Sherlock, and Anthea.'

'Ah, right,' Greg nodded.

'She has a thing about underage teenagers drinking alcohol,' Mycroft groaned. 'She took the good scotch.' Greg chuckled. 'It isn't funny,' Mycroft huffed, finally opening his eyes. 'I'm dangerously low on my own stock and it's Friday; I have to go and buy more.'

'Well, you got the party tomorrow,' Greg said. 'Um... we could always go somewhere and get you some alcohol.'

Mycroft smiled before saying, 'Unfortunately my tutor is coming tomorrow and Mrs Hudson has made sure I'll be here.' Greg smiled. 'I swear that woman has magical powers,' Mycroft complained.

'Aww, do you always do what she says?' Greg teased.

'Shut up, Gregory dear.'

'Make me, Mycroft darling.'

'You'd like that, wouldn't you?' Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded. 'Oh yeah, that'd be _awesome_.'

Mycroft chuckled and closed his eyes, going back to breathing in and out deeply and just relaxing. Greg stayed where he was, watching the teenager that had suddenly become so much to him. Three months ago he would have laughed at- and probably hit- anyone who told him he'd basically be Mycroft Holmes' best friend. But now...

Greg chewed on his lip as he thought about his behaviour towards Mycroft before this whole thing had started. He couldn't beat around the bush; he'd been a right jerk to the other boy. He'd never failed to tease and bully Mycroft, though only with words, not physically. Of course that didn't make it any better.

Greg sighed and Mycroft cracked an eye open. 'What?'

Greg chewed on his bottom lip for a minute before saying, 'I just realised that I never... um... apologised properly.'

Mycroft peeled both eyes open. 'Apologised?' he questioned.

'Yeah, for... for how I used to treat you,' Greg said.

Mycroft sat up and pulled his legs under him, back to the door. 'What are you saying, Greg?'

Greg sighed and sat up too, running a hand through his hair. 'When we met, and all the years after that, I... well, I treated you like crap,' Greg said. 'I treated you like crap right up until that party where I saw the real you.'

Mycroft was silent, his eyes roaming over Greg's face.

'I was a complete and utter prick,' Greg said.

'Gregory-'

'No, let me finish,' Greg cut in. Mycroft pursed his lips but nodded. 'I _was_ a prick, Mycroft,' he continued, 'and I'm really, really sorry about how I used to treat you. I mean, you were always nice to me, polite, and I just made fun of you and hated you for no reason.'

Mycroft sighed but didn't say anything.

'I'm not the best bloke around, I can be a real jerk,' Greg said, playing with the blanket beneath him, 'and I treated you like garbage because you were nice, polite, smart, a... nerd, I suppose. I didn't stop to get to know you, I just let myself judge you based on the image you let everyone see. And I had no reason to treat you like that.'

Greg took a deep breath and looked back up at Mycroft. 'I'm sorry. I don't know why you let me kiss you, or even put up with me. You should just... punch me in the face or something. I'd deserve it.'

There was silence after Greg had finished, the two teenagers starting at each other. Mycroft's bright blue eyes roamed over Greg's face carefully, and Greg wondered if Mycroft was deducing whether or not he was telling the truth.

Well he was. It still ate at Greg that he'd basically treated Mycroft like a second-class citizen for two years. He'd do everything in his power to make it up to Mycroft and show the other teenager that he no longer thought that; he liked Mycroft for who he was.

Suddenly Mycroft moved, shifting to his knees and shuffling across the bed. Greg swallowed thickly, wondering if Mycroft was actually going to hit him.

And then Mycroft's right fist darted out, slamming into Greg's crotch and making the older teen howl in pain. He dropped onto the bed cupping his groin, moaning as pain speared through his body from his balls. Tears blurred his vision and he shuddered, entire body wracked with pain.

'That's for being a dick,' Mycroft said. He moved closer and Greg flinched, bracing for another hit. Instead warm lips were pressed to his own and he peeled his eyes open slowly. 'And that,' Mycroft said, 'is for having the guts to own up to your behaviour and apologise.'

'S-So you f-forgive m-me?' Greg moaned.

'Yes, I forgive you,' Mycroft nodded.

'Cunt,' Greg groaned. 'Couldn't you just have... f-fuckin'... p-punched me?'

'I did punch you,' Mycroft smirked.

'In the face!' Greg shouted, burying his head in the pillows.

Mycroft chuckled and kissed him again. 'Now where's the fun in that?'

'You arsehole,' Greg grunted.

Mycroft smiled as he stretched along his bed.

When Greg could move again- his groin was still aching, though- he sat up gingerly and said, 'I _am_ sorry.'

'I know,' Mycroft said. 'And that's why I forgive you.'

'So... we're good, yeah?'

'Well... have you forgiven me for punching you in the groin?' Mycroft queried.

Greg chuckled and stretched out alongside Mycroft carefully. 'Yeah,' he nodded as he rested his head against Mycroft's chest. 'Though I won't forget it.'

'Well I _am_ unforgettable,' Mycroft said.

A grin tugged at Greg's lips and he played with Mycroft's shirt. 'Yeah,' he said, 'you are.'

 

{oOo}

 

'I want to show you something,' Mycroft said suddenly, practically bouncing to his feet and tugging Greg up.

'Wha?' Greg snorted. He'd been dozing cuddled up to Mycroft and blinked as he was pulled to his feet. 'Wha izit?' he grumbled.

'I want to show you something,' Mycroft repeated. He ignored Greg's protests and dragged him towards two doors across from the bed.

Greg watched as Mycroft pulled open the double doors, revealing a walk-in-wardrobe that was bigger than Greg's bedroom.

'Um, Mycroft?' he said as he was dragged inside. 'I kinda already came outta the closet; don't wanna go back in.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes and ignored Greg, instead walking into the room. Greg followed, glancing at the wall of shoes, the perfectly ironed sweaters, shirts, and trousers that he'd seen Mycroft wear when he was pretending to be the perfect aristocratic son.

They headed into the farthest right-hand corner, Mycroft pushing apart a long line of coats. He stepped up onto the wooden base of the alcove and slipped his index fingers into two holes that were in the upper-corners of the wooden panelling.

Greg watched gobsmacked as Mycroft pushed, the wooden panel swinging open to reveal a room. Mycroft smirked at Greg and stepped through, and Greg had no choice but to follow.

He stepped into a small, narrow room, that looked to be ten metres long, five wide. The carpet was grey, like in Mycroft's bedroom, but mostly covered by two separate rugs; one black, the other red. The pale grey walls were completely plastered in posters; bands like Green Day, Muse, Fall Out Boy, and The Living End stared at Greg from every angle, as well as posters of Doctor Who, Harry Potter, and NCIS.

There was a long black couch in the middle of the room against the far wall, a small armchair in the left-hand corner, and a large bright green beanbag in the right corner. To the left of the couch was a slim set of drawers with a silver CD player sitting atop. A rack of CDs sat wedged between the drawers and the couch.

Beside the armchair was a long silver rack and three plastic tubs filled with clothes Greg was more familiar with; tight jeans in various colours as well as leather trousers, band shirts, tight-fitting jackets, with Chucks, boots, and other shoes stacked beside the tubs.

There was also a small TV opposite the couch behind Greg with DVDs stacked on the floor around it. A black and white guitar was propped up on a stand near the beanbag, beside it an acoustic guitar, and Greg stared at both before turning to take in the room again.

'Fuck, Mycroft,' Greg hummed. 'You don't do things halfway, do ya?' When Mycroft didn't answer Greg looked at him and saw that the red-head had one eyebrow raised. 'I mean... shit, look at this,' Greg said, spreading his arms to gesture at the entire room. 'A fucking secret room in your fucking wardrobe.' He paused suddenly and grinned. 'Takes "in the closet" to a whole new level, huh?'

Mycroft chuckled and sat on the sofa, stretching and linking his fingers behind his head. 'So what do you think?'

'It's awesome,' Greg said honestly, going straight to Mycroft's CD collection. 'You know, besides the Fall Out Boy.'

'I'll convert you, Gregory dear.'

'Don't count on it, Mycroft darling,' Greg muttered. He turned from the CDs and walked over to the guitars. 'So when did you set all this up?' he asked.

'As soon as we moved here,' Mycroft answered. 'I had a similar room in my old house.'

'How'd you do it, though?' Greg asked.

'I simply moved part of the wardrobe forward,' Mycroft said. 'The wood is stuck in with screws and superglue. If you have the time, and know what you're doing, it's easy. I just bring a part forward, put a panel on hinges, and move in what I want.'

'Wow,' Greg said, glancing at Mycroft. 'You're amazing, you know that?' Mycroft just smiled as Greg turned his eyes back to the two guitars. 'I didn't know you played.'

'I taught myself; a fun hobby,' Mycroft said.

Greg nodded before grabbing the acoustic guitar and walking across to Mycroft. 'Play something for me.'

Mycroft inclined an eyebrow. 'Excuse me?'

'Go on, play for me,' Greg said, holding out the guitar.

Mycroft stared at him for about a minute before sighing. He took the guitar and said, 'Fine, fine. What do you want me to play?'

'Um... dunno,' Greg said, dropping to sit on the floor. He crossed his legs and looked up at Mycroft, a childish grin of delight on his face. 'Just play something.'

Mycroft went through all the songs he knew before finally settling on one. 'Okay.' He stood and went to where his other guitar was, bending to grab a plastic case from the floor. Greg stared at his arse the entire time and Mycroft smirked at him when he came back with a pick, sitting on the sofa and picking at the strings.

After a brief period where Mycroft tuned his guitar- at least that's what Greg thought he was doing- the younger teen placed his fingers on the correct strings and started playing, a soft song that Greg wasn't familiar with.

'I'm sittin' here all by myself, just tryin' to think of somethin' to do,' Mycroft sang softly, his voice complementing the guitar. 'I'm tryin' to think of somethin', anythin', just to keep me from thinking of _yoouu_.'

Greg smiled as Mycroft stared at him for the last word, his fingers moving along the neck of the guitar with practised ease.

'But you know it's not workin' out, 'cause you're all that's on my _miiind_. One thought of you is all it takes to leave the rest of the world _behiind, ooh_...'

He started playing the chorus, eyes briefly darting away from Greg to rest on the guitar, his fingers moving with precision.

'And I didn't mean for this to _goo_... as far as it _diid_... and I didn't mean to get so cloose... and share what we _diid_... and I didn't mean to fall in _loove_ , but I _diid_...' he looked back up at Greg and the older teenager felt his heart skip a beat, 'and you didn't mean to love me back, but I know you _diid_.'

Greg looked away from Mycroft's eyes, unable to handle the emotions that were rolling in the blue depths. Instead he focused on Mycroft's hands; his left holding the neck of the guitar, fingers moving as he played the chords; his right gripping the pick, wrist bending as he brushed along the strings.

'I'm sittin' here tryin' to convince myself that you're not the one for _mee_ ,' Mycroft sang, 'but the more I think, the less I believe it, and the more I want you here with _mee_... you know the holidays are comin' up, I don't wanna spend 'em _aloonee_... memories of Christmas time with you will just kill me if I'm on my _oown_...'

Greg finally looked back up at Mycroft. The red-head had his eyes closed, entire body relaxed as he played the song.

'And I didn't mean for this to goo as far as it _diid_... and I didn't mean to get so _cloose_... and share what we _diid_...' his eyes flicked to Greg and this time Greg held his gaze, 'and I didn't mean to fall in _loove_ , but I _diid_... and you didn't mean to love me back...'

Greg felt like there was more to this than two friends simply enjoying a guitar, a song, together. The way Mycroft was looking at him, the way his voice pounded through Greg's head, the way each and every chord sang through his body... Mycroft was saying something; Greg was just trying to figure out _what_.

'I know it's not the smartest thing to do, we just can't seem to get it _riight_ ,' Mycroft sang, 'but what I wouldn't give to have one more chance tonight...' He trailed off, eyes flicking back to the guitar so he could watch his fingers press against the strings. 'One more chance _toniight_...' he sang softly before the chords trailed off, fingers and pick both light.

'I'm sittin' here tryin' to entertain myself with this old guitar,' Mycroft continued softly, so softly Greg had to lean forward to hear him. 'But with all my inspiration gone it's not gettin' me very _faar_...' Suddenly he slashed at the strings, the guitar louder than before. 'I look around my room and everything I see reminds me of _yoou_... oh _pleeasse_ , baby, won't ya take my hand, we've got nothing left to _proo-OOH-ove_...'

He was back to playing the chorus and Greg's entire body was poised, focused entirely on Mycroft.

'Well I didn't mean for this to goo as far as it _diid_... and I didn't mean to get so _clooose_... and share what we _diid_...' Mycroft's eyes once again reached Greg's, and Greg felt his breath catch in his chest, 'and I didn't mean to fall in _loove_ , but I _diid_... and you didn't mean to love me back, but I know you _diid_...

'And I didn't mean to meet you _theen_ ,' Mycroft sang, eyes still locked onto Greg's, 'when we were just _kiids_... and I didn't mean to give you _chiills_ , the way that I _kiiss_! And I didn't _meeaan_ to fall in _looove_ , but I _diid_... and you didn't mean to love me back but I know you _diid_...'

The song was harder now, louder, and Greg couldn't take his eyes of Mycroft's.

'Don't say you didn't love me back 'cause you know you _diid_ ,' Mycroft sang. 'No, you didn't mean to love me _baack_... but you _diid_...'

He played the last chord, the note ringing out around the room. Suddenly there was silence, Mycroft staring at Greg, Greg staring right back. Neither knew how long they sat there just looking at each other, but suddenly Greg cleared his throat and coughed.

'Um, wow,' Greg mumbled. 'That was... um... wow.'

Mycroft chuckled softly.

'I didn't know you could sing,' Greg said.

'I don't think I can,' Mycroft shrugged.

'Oh come on, that was beautiful,' Greg said.

Mycroft's eyes flicked up to Greg's and held his gaze. 'Really?'

Greg nodded slowly. 'Yeah,' he said, 'really.' Mycroft smiled. 'What song was that?'

' _A Lonely September_ by the Plain White T's,' Mycroft said. He stood and placed his acoustic guitar back on its stand, the pick going in the plastic case he'd opened earlier. 'I taught myself.'

'You're amazing,' Greg said honestly as Mycroft sat back down before him. 'Really, really amazing, Mycroft.'

Mycroft blushed lightly, cheeks turning pink. Greg smiled and shuffled to his knees. He placed his hands on Mycroft's thighs and leaned up, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to his lips.

When they broke apart Greg said, 'Absolutely amazing.'

Mycroft smiled.


	35. Where The Lines Overlap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Where The Lines Overlap by Paramore

They stayed in Mycroft's secret room for most of the afternoon; snogging, listening to music, snogging some more, talking about bands and life and crap, and finally, some more snogging.

When it hit seven Greg realised he had to leave and the two exchanged a few soft kisses before Mycroft led Greg through the manor. Greg still couldn't get over just how _big_ the house was, and Mycroft smiled indulgently when Greg gaped and pointed stuff out.

They walked down the stairs and entered the foyer, Mycroft planning on walking Greg out to his bike. Unfortunately it was that moment that Sherlock and John decided to come careening in, the front doors slamming open with twin _bangs_.

Sherlock was covered in grass that Mycroft recognised from the abandoned stables at the back of the grounds, and John was bright pink in the face. The two stopped short when they saw Greg and Mycroft, and John promptly blushed, making his face even darker.

'What have you two been up to?' Mycroft asked.

'Um... just...' John began.

'None of your business!' Sherlock snapped.

'... h-hanging out,' John finished.

'Mm-hmm,' Mycroft hummed.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed as Greg stood awkwardly beside Mycroft, looking from Sherlock to John.

'What have _you_ been doing?' Sherlock questioned, bright blue eyes swivelling to Greg briefly before resting on his sibling.

'None of your business,' Mycroft sniffed, echoing his brother.

'You've been having sex,' Sherlock snickered.

'Sherlock-' Mycroft tried, only for the younger Holmes to interrupt.

'Mrs Hudson!' he bellowed, making John clap his hands over his ears. 'Mycroft's sneaking boys in!'

'Shut up,' Mycroft hissed, stomping towards his brother.

'MIISSUUSS HUUUDDDSSSOOONNN!' Sherlock shouted as he danced away from Mycroft. 'MRS HUDSON!'

'What is it?' Mrs Hudson asked as she came hurrying into the room. 'Sherlock, dear, what's wrong?'

Sherlock beamed as Mycroft scowled darkly at him. 'Nothing's wrong,' Mycroft said quickly.

'Mycroft has a _friend_ over,' Sherlock announced.

Mrs Hudson blinked at him before her eyes found Greg. Greg blushed brightly and Mrs Hudson smiled at him. 'Hello, dear.'

'H-Hi,' Greg stuttered.

Mycroft groaned and rubbed his eyes. 'Mrs Hudson this is Gregory Lestrade. He's a friend-'

'Boyfriend,' Sherlock interrupted.

' _Friend_ of mine,' Mycroft hissed, eyes dark as they snapped to Sherlock, 'from school.'

Sherlock just grinned and Mrs Hudson walked to Greg. 'Nice to meet you, Gregory.'

'Uh... you too,' Greg mumbled. 'You can call me Greg.'

'Of course, of course,' the woman smiled. 'Are you staying for dinner, Greg?'

'Um... n-no, I-'

'You must stay, it's no trouble,' Mrs Hudson cut in. 'I'm sure Mycroft would love to have you.'

Greg glanced at Mycroft, who looked like he was trying very hard not to beat his sibling over the head, before looking back at Mrs Hudson.

'Um... yeah, sure, I just gotta call my mum,' Greg said, digging into his pocket for his mobile.

'Of course, dear,' Mrs Hudson beamed. 'John's staying too, so really, we don't mind. I'll just go tell Jethro.'

'Who's Jethro?' Sherlock asked as Greg dialled his mum.

'Mr Andrew,' Mycroft said.

'His name is _Jethro_?' Sherlock blinked. 'What kind of name is Jethro?'

'What kind of name is Sherlock?' Mycroft muttered.

'Oi, Sherlock's better than _Mycroft_ ,' Sherlock retorted.

'It is not,' Mycroft snapped.

Greg watched in faint amusement as the Holmes brothers were reduced to bickering little children. Greg couldn't help but find it endearing; they may have been geniuses, but they fought like all other siblings.

' _Hi, Greg_ ,' Maggie answered, pulling Greg from his thoughts.

'Hey, Mum, how are you?' Greg asked.

' _Alright_ ,' Maggie said. ' _What's up?_ '

'Um... I'm staying at Mycroft's for dinner,' Greg said, turning his back on the others and fiddling with his waistcoat. 'Is that alright?'

' _Of course, honey_ ,' Maggie said, and Greg could _hear_ her smile. ' _Dinner with Mycroft, huh?_ '

'Mum,' Greg sighed.

' _What, I didn't say anything!_ '

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg muttered.

' _I would have thought Meghan would have kicked you out as soon as possible_ ,' Maggie mused.

'Um... his parents aren't here,' Greg said, remembering what Mr Andrew had told him earlier.

' _Oh, I see_ ,' Maggie hummed. ' _So just the two of you, huh?_ '

'No,' Greg said hotly and heard his mother chuckle. 'Mycroft, Sherlock, John Watson, and their nanny.'

'She's not our nanny!' Sherlock shouted.

'You certainly need one,' Mycroft said.

'Shut up, Mycroft!'

'Make me, Sherlock!'

John groaned. 'You two'll never grow up, will you?'

'Shut up,' the Holmes brothers said together.

' _Well they sound like a fun lot,_ ' Maggie said, having heard parts of the Holmes boys cursing each other. ' _When will you be home?_ '

'Um... not sure,' Greg said. 'Not too long, maybe an hour or two.'

' _Alright, dear. Drive safe_.'

'Will do, Mum,' Greg said before the two said goodbye and Greg hung up. He turned to face the others and found Mycroft and Sherlock standing with their arms crossed, glaring at each other. John was snickering in amusement and Mrs Hudson smiling indulgently. 'Um, my mum said it was fine,' Greg said.

'Wonderful,' Mrs Hudson beamed, clapping her hands together. 'You lot get washed up while I talk to Jethro.'

Mycroft and Sherlock stormed across the room at the same time and John said, 'Come on,' to Greg. The two followed Mycroft and Sherlock, who were still bickering.

'You are _such_ a child,' Mycroft was muttering.

'And you're a bastard,' Sherlock replied.

'Me? What the hell did I do?'

'You're just _you_! And that's fucking annoying!'

'Only adults are allowed to swear, Sherlock,' Mycroft said.

'You're not an adult, you bloody hypocrite!' Sherlock snarled.

'I'm older than you!'

'And fatter!'

'Your level of childishness astounds me, little brother.'

'Oh, and you calling me _little brother_ is new?' Sherlock demanded. 'It's always; Sherlock, you're too young; Sherlock, you don't understand; Sherlock, stop acting like a four-year-old-'

'You _do_ act like a four-year-old!' Mycroft interrupted.

'Oh, and the way _you_ act is something to aspire to?' Sherlock asked. 'Drinking, smoking, shagging every male thing over the age of sixteen-'

'My personal life is just that; _mine_ ,' Mycroft once again cut in. 'Don't talk about things that aren't any of your business.'

'It _is_ my business! Who else is looking out for you?'

'Are they always like this?' Greg asked John, who was walking down the hall beside him.

'Oh, yeah,' John nodded. 'They really do care about each other, but their personalities clash all the time. They argue about anything and everything.'

'Mm, it's... odd,' Greg said.

'Wait 'til they start arguing in other languages,' John said. 'They shout at each other in Spanish and German. When they start speaking French you gotta break them up.'

'Right...' Greg chuckled. He'd seen Mycroft and Sherlock go head-to-head before, but only for a few minutes.

'Je t'emmerde-' Sherlock began in French, but John was quick to intercede.

He grabbed Sherlock by the back of the shirt and dragged him to a halt. 'Alright, girls, enough.'

'He started it!' Sherlock huffed.

'I don't care,' John said. 'Just get in the bathroom and wash up for dinner.'

'Yes, Mother,' Sherlock said sarcastically, saluting the shorter boy before he stormed through a door to their right.

'I apologise,' Mycroft said quickly, his face flushed with embarrassment when he remembered Greg was there and had seen the entire interaction.

'No worries,' Greg smiled. 'It's cute the way you two go on.'

'WE ARE _NOT_ CUTE!' Sherlock screamed from the bathroom while Mycroft blushed brighter.

John chuckled and went into the bathroom too, followed by Mycroft and Greg.

'Holy shit,' Greg said, looking around the room. It was as big as his sitting room at home- possibly bigger- and done in dark blue tiles framed in white. The counter and in-ground bathtub were both white marble, and the shower was in the corner with three glass walls.

'Yes, well... no one can ever say Siger Holmes is cheap,' Mycroft muttered.

Sherlock snorted as he rubbed his hands together violently under the tap, water splattering against the counter around the sink.

'Sherlock, please,' Mycroft sighed.

Sherlock poked his tongue out before flicking water at Mycroft. His older brother scowled and John quickly pushed a hand-towel into his best friend's hands.

After washing their hands the four teenagers trooped back to the foyer, Sherlock and John ahead of the older boys and chatting under their breath. Greg grinned when he saw the way the two bumped shoulders, their hands brushing together every few seconds. He glanced at Mycroft, who was smiling too, as they entered the smaller dining room.

'We meet again, Greg,' Mr Andrew said, a warm smile on his face.

'Yeah, um... hi,' Greg said, looking embarrassed.

Mr Andrew chuckled. 'I hear Martha talked you into staying for dinner.'

Greg assumed Martha was Mrs Hudson and nodded as the older man began ladling soup into bowls. Mrs Hudson sat at the head of the table in what Greg assumed was usually Mr Holmes' spot, with Sherlock on her left and Mycroft on her right. Greg sat beside Mycroft, John opposite him, as Mr Andrew continued to serve.

When the man was done he sat beside John and Greg noticed there was an empty spot with a bowl of soup beside him. 'Um, who-' Greg began, only to cut himself off when Anthea Lander walked into the room.

She had her eyes glued to her BlackBerry and didn't look up when Mrs Hudson said, 'Good evening, dear.'

'Hello,' Anthea answered as she sat. She blinked suddenly and glanced at Greg. 'Hello.'

'Hi,' Greg said. Anthea tilted her head, glanced from Mycroft to Sherlock, and then went back to her phone. 'Um...' Greg hummed.

'She's not very social,' Mycroft murmured.

'Like you're one to talk,' Anthea replied.

Mycroft smiled and they started eating, Mrs Hudson and Mr Andrew discussing something to do with kitchen appliances. Sherlock and John were giggling as they whispered to each other, and Mycroft smirked over the table at them. Anthea was eating with one hand, her other typing on her BlackBerry, and when Greg glanced at it he saw that she was texting Sally Donovan.

Greg let the conversations wash over him, only talking when he was asked direct questions. Mrs Hudson seemed to find him fascinating; she asked about his subjects, homework, his mother and pretty much everything about his life.

Mycroft smiled each time Greg answered something, and Sherlock kept shooting his brother scowls and eyebrow raises, all of which Mycroft ignored. Sherlock wouldn't be silenced, though, and when dessert was set down he said, 'How long have you been dating, exactly?'

He was talking to Greg, but his eyes were on his brother, and John almost choked on his cake while Anthea inclined an eyebrow.

'Sherlock,' Mycroft growled.

'Um...' Greg mumbled, not sure how to answer _that_ in the presence of two adults.

'Sherlock, don't be rude,' Mrs Hudson berated softly. She reached over the table and ruffled Sherlock's hair, making his curls bounce messily over his head. He scowled at the woman and John hastily patted the genius' hair down, making Sherlock flash him a smile.

'Not boyfriends my arse,' Greg muttered, making both Mycroft and Anthea stifle giggles.

'What?' Sherlock demanded. He stared from one teenager to another, blue eyes hard. 'What did you say?'

'Nothing,' Greg cleared his throat.

'Bullshit,' Sherlock scowled.

'Sherlock, please!' Mycroft snapped.

'What? Bullshit's not that bad a cuss,' Sherlock said. 'I could say bastard or fuck or prick or-'

He cut himself off with a loud grunt of pain, glaring at Mycroft as he reached under the table to rub his leg.

'How about we all just stop?' John suggested.

'I didn't do anything!' Greg said.

'Me either,' Anthea added without taking her eyes off her BlackBerry.

'Let's just... everyone, shut up,' John huffed.

'Yes, sir,' Sherlock saluted.

'John, you should definitely consider becoming Sherlock's full-time babysitter,' Mycroft muttered.

'Leave him alone,' Sherlock scowled.

'I practically _am_ Sherlock's babysitter,' John added. Sherlock glared at him and John said, 'What? It's true.'

Sherlock continued to glare before a grin broke out across his face. John's cheeks turned pink and Mycroft and Greg both snorted, but wisely didn't say anything when Sherlock glared at them.

Dinner finally came to an end two hours later. It wasn't that bad, really, but between Mrs Hudson's questions and Sherlock constantly commenting on their "relationship", Greg was ready to go home.

Mrs Hudson gave him a hug and told him to come back any time, and Greg thanked her and Mr Andrew for dinner before Mycroft led him outside.

'I like him,' Mrs Hudson hummed.

'Definitely a nice boy,' Mr Andrew nodded.

Sherlock groaned and muttered, 'You people make me sick.'

'Sherlock,' John sighed.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg and Mycroft walked in silence, just enjoying each other's company now that they weren't surrounded by people. They didn't speak until they entered the garage, Greg stopping beside his bike and Mycroft sighing.

'I'm sorry about that,' Mycroft said softly.

Greg chuckled and wound his arms around Mycroft's waist, pulling the other teenager close. 'S'alright,' he said. 'You're cute when you blush.'

'I am not,' Mycroft scowled.

Greg leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to the tip of Mycroft's nose. When he drew back Mycroft's cheeks were dusted pink and he grinned. 'Totally adorable.'

'I'll kill you slowly; no one will ever find the body,' Mycroft promised.

'Ooh,' Greg hummed, grin not leaving his lips.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and leaned in for a proper kiss. Their lips were warm and gentle, soft and reassuring, and when they drew apart Mycroft smiled too.

'You know, you had to have dinner with my mum,' Greg said, 'and it's clear Mr Andrew and Mrs Hudson care about you so... it was like cosmic payback.'

'Cosmic payback?' Mycroft echoed. When Greg nodded, he said, 'You have no idea what you're saying, do you?'

'Nope,' Greg grinned, making the "P" pop. 'Just thought it sounded cool.'

Mycroft chuckled and kissed him again before guiding Greg to his bike. 'The gates will open automatically when you reach them, so you'll be able to leave just fine.'

'Right-e-o,' Greg said as he straddled his bike. 'Um... maybe I should get a keycard, huh? Hard to sneak in when you got gates like that.'

'I thought gravity meant nothing to Gregory Lestrade when he wants to suck Mycroft Holmes' cock,' Mycroft said. 'Why should gates stop you?'

It took Greg a minute, but then he remembered the conversation he and Mycroft had had weeks ago in his bedroom. He snorted and shook his head. 'Oh, Mycroft, you tease.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'Please leave my property, immediately.'

'Now, now, no need to be mean,' Greg said, pulling his helmet from the handlebars.

Before he could pull it on Mycroft took his face between both hands and crushed their mouths together, tongue snaking out to explore Greg's mouth thoroughly. Greg groaned and blinked rapidly when they broke apart, feeling dazed and more than a little turned on.

'I'll see you later,' Mycroft said, letting Greg go.

Greg leaned over and pressed one last kiss to Mycroft's lips. 'Yeah, seeya later,' he said.

Mycroft smiled and watched as Greg tugged his helmet on and stuck his keys in his bike. It roared to life and Greg waved before taking off, rolling down the pebbled driveway and towards the gates.

 

{oOo}

 

Mycroft was feeling slightly nervous as he walked back into the house. Mr Andrew and Sherlock had disappeared to take John home, and Mrs Hudson was busying herself in the kitchen.

Mycroft cleared his throat after rapping on the door, and the woman turned to smile at him. 'Gregory gone?' she asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'Mrs Hudson, I...' he trailed off, unsure how to put his request- his _need_ \- into words.

Mrs Hudson turned to look at him, a small smile on her face.

'Um...' Mycroft tried again.

'I won't tell your mother or father that Gregory was here,' Mrs Hudson promised.

Mycroft stared at her.

'I know it's hard for you, Mycroft,' the woman smiled warmly. 'And when you're ready you'll tell them; but only when _you_ are ready.'

Mycroft blinked rapidly before nodding and saying, 'Thank you,' in a soft voice.

Mrs Hudson reached out and gave his shoulder a squeeze, earning a small smile from the teenager. She patted his shoulder gently and turned to walk back to the sink, leaving Mycroft to head to his room, a smile on his face as he recalled the afternoon spent with Greg.


	36. Look What You've Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Look What You've Done by Jet

Greg didn't get up until midday the following Saturday, choosing to sleep in. Dimmock called around 12:30 and Greg agreed to meet him and Molly at the McDonalds beside Tesco. Joe and Dylan had a footy game in the neighbouring town and had already left, leaving their mates to their own devices.

Greg was glad, actually; while Joe and Dylan _were_ his friends, they weren't like Dimmock. They wouldn't understand why Greg wanted to snog Mycroft, even if they saw his partying side. And they'd been bitching and moaning all week about Greg's "disappearances", so it'd be nice to just go to a party and be able to hang out with Mycroft.

So Greg was in high spirits as he left the house, his mum at the hospital for the day shift. He rode to McDonalds and parked a few spots away from Dimmock's BMW. He walked in and spotted Dimmock and his girlfriend sitting up the back on the plush red cushions, but grabbed some food before joining them.

'Hello, children,' Greg said, leaning across the table to kiss Molly's cheek.

'Hi, Greg,' Molly smiled.

'So, party tonight?' Dimmock asked, nicking one of Greg's nuggets.

'Mm, finally get to fuckin' sit with Mycroft without Dyl and Joe demanding a fuckin' commentary of my life.'

'They're just worried,' Dimmock smiled. 'If you'd admit to them that you had a boyfriend...'

Greg scowled as Molly and Dimmock both grinned. 'I ain't got a boyfriend, alright?'

'See how he keeps denying it?' Dimmock said to Molly, who nodded. 'It's always the same; I don't like Mycroft, I don't fancy Mycroft, I ain't Mycroft's girlfriend-'

'I'm not!' Greg hissed.

'Sure, sure,' Dimmock said, flapping a hand dismissively.

'I'm not!' Greg repeated. 'Jesus Christ, why are you goin' on about it? I don't-'

'Fancy Mycroft Holmes,' Molly cut in. 'Except you do, Greg.'

Greg groaned. 'Why do you people hate me?'

'We don't,' Molly smiled. 'We're just trying to help you find love.'

'Love makes everything better,' Dimmock said, draping an arm around Molly's shoulders. 'We want you to be happy, Gregory.'

Molly was nodding knowingly and Greg's scowl deepened. 'You realise you're turning into those annoying couples who think they know everything?'

'We don't know _everything_ ,' Molly said. 'I'm a girl, obviously, and you and Mycroft are both guys.'

'Maybe, 'cause it seems you _really_ like Mycroft controlling everything,' Dimmock snickered, earning himself another kick.

'Why are you denying it?' Molly asked.

'Because I _don't_ like him!' Greg hissed.

'Honestly, Greg, what's the big deal?' Dimmock asked. 'You told me yourself you only sleep around 'cause all other guys are lousy shags. Well now you've found a guy who's kept your interest. Why not make it official?'

Greg leaned back, suddenly quiet.

'Mycroft won't wait around forever if you don't offer him more,' Molly added. 'He'll find someone who'll appreciate him properly, and you'll get your heart broken.'

That stopped Greg in his tracks. He remembered how he'd felt when Mycroft had gone out partying, and possibly meeting a bloke who'd shag him. Greg had seen Mycroft in action himself; had seen the auburn-haired teen pull in strangers. He'd also managed to talk John Ralling- a guy Greg had taken a crack at in the past- to fuck him after one meeting.

It didn't take much for men to give in to Mycroft Holmes; Greg himself had kissed the bloke after one party.

He chewed on his lip, playing with his food as he thought. Dimmock and Molly were watching him but neither interrupted.

Greg imagined seeing Mycroft with someone else; seeing someone's arm around Mycroft's waist, going clubbing with him and kissing him. He imagined some other guy laughing with Mycroft in the library, giggling and stealing quick kisses, passing notes in class and sharing smokes in the carpark.

The level of anger that washed over Greg in that moment made him blink in surprise. The mere thought of _anyone_ kissing Mycroft made Greg want to throw his tray across the restaurant and hit someone, preferably with Dimmock's car.

But... did that mean he _liked_ Mycroft? No, he couldn't, right? It was... Mycroft. Sweet, charming, absolutely fucking _amazing_ Mycroft Holmes.

Greg had never liked anyone. His one goal was always to get into the guy's trousers and have some fun. But with Mycroft it was so much more. Yeah, Greg wanted in his trousers, and he absolutely _loved_ kissing the other teenager, but with Mycroft it was... different. Greg enjoyed talking to him, snogging him, just spending _time_ with him.

Did that mean Greg liked him?

And what about Mycroft?

Because if- and this was a _big_ fucking if- if Greg... _fancied_ Mycroft, then what would he do? Mycroft had never given any indication that he wanted Greg for more than fun. Mycroft had a reputation like Greg's, had been sleeping around as long as Greg had.

What would Mycroft do if- _if_ \- Greg suddenly started really liking him? Would he break things off immediately? Would he string Greg along until they finally fucked and then move on? Would he return the feelings?

He sighed and slumped further in his seat, suddenly not hungry. He stared at his food, fingers fiddling with his burger.

'So?' Dimmock finally asked.

Greg looked up at him, Molly staring at him too. 'I dunno,' he finally muttered.

'What?' Dimmock said.

'I dunno,' Greg repeated, shrugging lightly. 'I just... I dunno, Dimmock.'

He looked away and Dimmock and Molly shared a glance before deciding to change the subject. They could see that Greg was _finally_ thinking about it; that was enough for now.

'How about we see a movie?' Molly suggested.

Greg threw her a thankful look and Molly smiled in response.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg was in the backseat of Molly's car when his phone chimed.

'Boyfriend?' Dimmock asked.

'Shut up, fuck nut,' Greg snapped, making Dimmock pout and Molly kiss him when she stopped at a red light.

 

_And my tutor has finally left; excellent, I don't need to strangle her with my shoe laces - M_

 

Greg smiled, ignoring the grin Dimmock was giving him.

 

**Poor Mikey. Well, she's gone now, so relax and have a smoke, maybe strangle someone else.**

 

_Don't give me ideas - M_

 

Suddenly Greg had a thought and bit his lip, eyes swivelling from Dimmock to Molly.

 

**So... what are you doing today?**

 

_Smoking a packet of cigarettes, listening to some music, and drowning myself in teenage angst. Why do you ask? - M_

 

Greg chewed on his bottom lip.

 

**Um... well I'm goin' to the movies with Dimmock and his girlfriend Molly. You wanna come?**

 

He regretted the text as soon as he sent it; what was he, a fucking idiot? Dimmock would claim it was a date and Molly would squeal and flap about. Greg would scowl and curse his way through the movie and Mycroft would deduce what was going on.

Plus there were Greg's own feelings to consider; did he like Mycroft? Did he not like Mycroft? Was Mycroft just a shag or more? Was Greg going to murder Dimmock and Molly for making him think these fucking things?

Before he could reach over the seats and do just that, his mobile went off.

 

_I'd be delighted to. What time? - M_

 

Greg breathed out deeply, Dimmock glancing at him.

 

**We're heading over there now. I'll make sure we wait for you :)**

 

_I'll be there in twenty minutes, Gregory dear - M_

 

**Can't wait, Mycroft darling :)**

 

Greg pushed his thoughts and feelings aside as he shoved his phone away. 'So, um... Mycroft's coming.'

As predicted, Molly squealed, and Dimmock grinned at him. 'You invited Mycroft?'

'So what?' Greg sniffed, looking out the window and crossing his arms. 'Mates invite other mates to the movies all the time.'

'Ah, but not all those mates are shagging each other,' Dimmock said.

'Don't you fuckin' say anything, alright?' Greg demanded, glaring at them both. 'I'm fucking serious.'

'My lips are sealed,' Molly said, making a zipping motion across her mouth.

'Yeah, yeah, I won't say anything,' Dimmock said, rolling his eyes.

'Good,' Greg grunted, going back to staring out the window.

'Greggie and Mikey...' Dimmock hummed.

'Fuck you, cunt,' Greg snarled.

Dimmock just grinned.

 

{oOo}

 

Mycroft arrived half-an-hour after Greg, Dimmock and Molly. He was wearing tight grey jeans with a chain hanging from the right pocket, a blue and black flannelette shirt that brought out his eyes, and a black, button-up sweater.

Greg smiled from where he was leaning against the counter and, ignoring the looks he _knew_ Dimmock and Molly were throwing him, walked over to Mycroft and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

'Hey.'

'Hello,' Mycroft smiled.

'I got you a ticket,' Greg said, pulling two from his pocket. Mycroft glanced at the name of the movie and raised an eyebrow. 'What? Molly likes comedy movies.'

'Mm-hmm,' Mycroft hummed.

'Serious,' Greg said. 'I wanted to see an action movie, and Dimmock wanted to see some bloody horror movie and I am _so_ not into that,' Greg shook his head. ' _Molly_ wanted to see this, and because Dimmock's dating her, this is what we're seeing.'

Mycroft smiled. 'And the fact that this movie is very similar to the partying lives we live is just a coincidence?'

'Absolutely,' Greg beamed.

Mycroft just continued to smile as Dimmock and Molly joined them.

'Hi, Mycroft,' Dimmock said, shaking the taller boy's hand. Molly jumped forward and kissed Mycroft on the cheek, making him blush and clear his throat.

'Um, hello, how are you?' Mycroft asked.

'Great,' Molly beamed. 'Really, really great.'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and Dimmock said, 'Um, her sister didn't get expelled yesterday, so Molly's in a good mood.'

'Sister?' Mycroft questioned.

'Lily,' Greg said. 'Twin sister, they both go to St Mary's.'

Mycroft nodded slowly, 'And your sister is in danger of getting expelled often?'

Molly sighed and said, 'She's a bit... erm, odd. And I mean that in a really nice way; she just speaks her mind, is always trying to find out everything about everyone, and tends to break into science labs to create stuff.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'Sounds like my brother.'

The four headed into the movie theatre, Greg having bought Mycroft a lemonade as well as chocolate, lollies, and popcorn. Greg sat in the last row with Mycroft beside him and the two stared as Molly and Dimmock sat in the row before them, both grinning.

Mycroft turned to Greg, one eyebrow raised, and Greg said, 'Um... they're really, really weird.'

'That they are,' Mycroft nodded, 'but they keep looking at me, then grinning at you. And every time you touch me or even look at me they both giggle together.'

Greg groaned. It seemed Dimmock and Molly were still trying to play matchmaker. Wasn't it enough that he and Mycroft made out at every opportunity? Why did his friends need more than that?

Come to think of it, why did Greg need more than that? He and Mycroft were practically dating; they spent all their free time together, they only had sex with each other, and they did more than just shag and kiss. They talked, they laughed, they... they did _everything_ together.

_But you're not dating,_ a voice that sounded eerily like Molly whispered in his head. _What's stopping Mycroft from doing that with other people? He never said he wasn't sleeping with anyone else._

And that was the real problem, Greg thought. He knew _he_ wasn't sleeping with any other blokes, but Mycroft had never said he wasn't either. For all Greg knew Mycroft spent every night they weren't together shagging other guys.

That's why Greg needed more. He didn't want Mycroft dating other guys. He wanted Mycroft for himself; he wanted Mycroft to be _his._

_Shit,_ Greg thought, _I really do like him._

And with that thought racing through his mind, Greg panicked and jumped up.

'Greg?' Mycroft said. 'What's wrong?'

'I... uh... b-bathroom,' Greg said and took off. He was aware of Mycroft calling after him, Dimmock and Molly too, but ignored all three in favour of just getting out.

He made it to the bathrooms and thanked God when he found that he was alone. Greg stood leaning against the sink heavily, knuckles white as he gripped the hard porcelain.

He didn't know why he was freaking out, but he was. His breathing was coming in short, shallow inhales, and his hair was hanging over his slightly sweaty forehead. He couldn't get Dimmock's words out of his head; he couldn't get Mycroft out of his head.

_Fuck_ , he thought, glaring at the sink. _Fuck, fuck, FUCK!_ He hadn't meant for this to happen, he wasn't supposed to _like_ Mycroft! It was supposed to be a quick fling, maybe a few shags, that's it! Mycroft wasn't supposed to become his mate, his friend, his...

'Shit!' Greg shouted, slamming both palms against the sink. He felt pain lance up his arms but was thankful for it; it made him focus, made him stop flipping out long enough to think properly.

He liked Mycroft.

Okay... _okay_. So... that was it; everything was over. Because Greg knew Mycroft didn't like him. Mycroft was a playboy like Greg, he slept around, he fucked and then left. He didn't have boyfriends, partners, _someone special_. He had sex.

End.

Of.

_Story_.

So Greg was completely and utterly fucked, before he and Mycroft had got any actual fucking in. Greg couldn't keep something like this from the other boy; Mycroft was too smart, too good at reading everything through your clothes and actions and just... _everything._

Which meant that Mycroft would be able to tell. He'd know that Greg liked him and he'd leave. No more hanging out in the library doing homework, no more going to parties and sneaking kisses and touches, no more hanging out in Greg's room when Maggie was working or asleep.

All of that, gone. Greg would once again be alone, stuck shagging whatever hot guy came his way. And while that had been good for a while, it wasn't who Greg was anymore. He now knew what it was like to go after and stay with one person. He didn't want random shags.

He wanted _Mycroft_.

'Fuck,' Greg spat. 'What a fucking idiot, Lestrade; you're a _fucking idiot_!'

'Why?'

Greg jumped and turned, slamming himself into the sink and wincing. Mycroft was standing just inside the door, leaning against the tiled wall with his arms crossed. He raised an eyebrow when Greg's breathing increased, eyes widening.

'M-Mycroft,' he stuttered, 'h-how long have you been here?'

'A minute, maybe less,' Mycroft said. His bright blue eyes roamed down Greg's body slowly before flicking back up to his face. 'What's wrong?'

Greg swallowed thickly. He couldn't tell Mycroft what was wrong; Mycroft would leave sooner. Greg had to try and keep this from him. Maybe he could limit the amount of time they spent together, slowly pull himself away before Mycroft found out. At least then when Mycroft _did_ leave, it wouldn't hurt as much.

_Yeah, right,_ Greg snorted to himself.

'Gregory, what is it?' Mycroft asked, concern laced thickly in his voice.

'Nothing,' Greg shook his head. He drew into himself, let his emotions be buried deep in his gut. God, he shouldn't have fucking invited Mycroft. He should never have let Mycroft snog him that first time. Everything would be different if Greg hadn't met the real Mycroft fucking Holmes. 'I was just- what's wrong?'

Greg frowned when he saw that Mycroft's entire body had stiffened, eyes narrowed and hard. He stood tall, fingers clenched into fists by his sides.

'Mycroft?'

'I have to go,' Mycroft said, turning and pulling the door open.

Greg jumped forward and grabbed his arm, Mycroft glaring as he was pulled back. 'Mycroft, what is it?'

'What is it?' Mycroft demanded. 'What do you think?'

'I... what?' Greg said. 'What are you on about?'

'You don't want me here!' Mycroft spat.

All the colour drained from Greg's face. No, Mycroft couldn't have figured it out that quickly. 'I... I...'

'Let me go,' Mycroft said, voice cold like ice. Greg slowly let his grip weaken and Mycroft jerked back from him. 'I'm sorry I wasted your time,' Mycroft snapped before tugging the door open and disappearing.

Greg stood frozen, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as the door slowly closed by itself. No. No, no, no, no, _no, no, NO_! Greg turned and slammed his fist into the wall, pain racing up his arm and making him wince. He did it again; and again and again and again until blood was running down his aching hand and the tiles.

No, no, _no_! He'd fucked it, fucked everything. He'd let Dimmock and Molly's words get to him, he'd thought too hard, and now Mycroft was gone. Everything they'd been doing together, what it had all been leading to, it was all gone.

How had this happened? How had a simple afternoon turned to shit in under twenty minutes? 

'Greg?'

Greg blinked, focusing again and realising he was still standing in the bathroom. His hand was throbbing like hell and there was blood dripping onto the floor.

'Shit,' Dimmock said, moving further into the room. 'What the fuck happened?'

'This is all your fault,' Greg whispered, pain quickly giving way to anger. 'You fucked everything.'

'What?' Dimmock blinked.

'You!' Greg shouted. 'You and your fucking teasing! Going on and on about me and Mycroft and... and... it's your fucking fault!'

'What are you talking about?' Dimmock demanded. 'What'd you do to your hand?'

'It's your fault!' Greg shouted, grabbing Dimmock by the shirt and slamming him into the wall.

'Jesus!' Dimmock winced. He wrapped both hands around Greg's wrists and tugged. 'Greg-'

'Mycroft knew, he could tell!' Greg shouted.

'Tell what?' Dimmock demanded.

Greg opened his mouth to shout, " _That I like him_!" but the words wouldn't come out. Dimmock didn't deserve to know that Greg _did_ like Mycroft. He deserved to be punched in the face.

'Greg,' Dimmock tried again. Greg let him go and Dimmock winced, rubbing his shoulders. 'What the fuck, man?'

'Fuck you,' Greg snarled. 'Just fuck you, Dimmock.'

He pushed past his best friend and ripped the door open, quickly disappearing outside. 'What the fuck?' Dimmock muttered as he rubbed his arms, glancing at the blood that Greg had left on the wall.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg had twelve missed calls from Dimmock, fourteen from Molly, and even two from Lily, Molly's sister. It seemed Dimmock still hadn't figured out just why Greg wasn't talking to him.

Greg didn't care. When he got home he'd locked himself in his room- well, he'd put a chair under his door handle- and ignored Maggie when she tried to ask what was wrong.

How could he tell her the truth? How could he admit that he'd ruined the best thing in his life? Because he had. He'd ruined everything by first falling for Mycroft and then letting Dimmock and Molly get to him.

And now he was in his room on a Saturday night, smoking and staring, throwing things and shouting. He'd planned to go to Matt Sanders' party that night and get drunk with Mycroft. Well that plan had gone to hell.

Greg sighed. He was tired. He was so tired of everything.


	37. Life Is Like A Boat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Life Is Like A Boat by Rie Fu
> 
> **Author's Note:** For those of you who don't know the song, I suggest you look it up and listen to it. It's one of my favourites. Warning though, it goes between Japanese and English, but it's still a great song.
> 
> {Dreamer}

Greg was woken from a fitful sleep by a banging on his bedroom window. He jolted awake, snorting as he did and wiping away drool, and turned to try and see what had woken him.

It took him at least a minute to wake up properly and realise someone was trying to climb through his bedroom window. He sighed, figuring it was Dimmock, and slid from bed. He stumbled across to his window, scrubbing away the last remnants of sleep, and pushed his bedroom window open.

'Mycroft?' he spluttered, eyes widening. The other boy was wearing tight red jeans, a black button-up shirt, and black chucks. He had a few leather bands around his neck and wrists, and thick black eyeliner highlighted his blue eyes, lids smudged with dark red eyeshadow.

Mycroft grinned lopsidedly at him, and it didn't take Greg long to realise the other teenager was drunk. He hurried to lean through the window when Mycroft tried to climb through, and after a lot of grunting, swearing, and giggling- that was from Mycroft- Greg got the red-head into his bedroom.

He closed his bedroom window part way and when he turned it was to see Mycroft swaying dangerously, staring around Greg's room.

'Mycroft, what are you doing here?' Greg asked, stepping closer. He didn't want to just reach out and touch Mycroft, not after earlier at the movies. He moved just close enough to grab Mycroft if the other teen fell.

'Went to... party,' Mycroft said, voice thick and speech slurred. Luckily Greg had dealt with many drunk teenagers, and a drunk Mycroft, so he got what the other boy was saying.

'You went to Matt Sanders'?' Greg asked. When Mycroft nodded he said, 'You didn't drive, did you?'

Mycroft snorted and shook his head, stumbling after he did and leaning heavily against Greg. He giggled and stuttered, 'N-No, no d-drivin'...'

'Okay,' Greg said. 'What are you doing here?'

'Guy,' Mycroft murmured, 'a guy... h-hit on me.'

Greg felt his heart skip a beat and bile rise in his throat. He could picture it; Mycroft and some hot guy, kissing and touching each other. It made anger surge through his gut and his fingers curled into fists.

'T-touched... _mee_ ,' Mycroft slurred, shaking his head again. Greg once more steadied him. 'Kissed me,' he mumbled.

'What?' Greg demanded.

'Wasn' you,' Mycroft grunted. 'Not y-you, not you, it... it w-wasn't...'

'Yeah, he wasn't me,' Greg cut in, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. He pulled Mycroft around until they were face-to-face. 'Why are you telling me this?'

Mycroft blinked, his eyes roaming over Greg's face, trying to focus. 'He... w-wasn't you,' he said.

'I know, you've said that,' Greg said.

'I w-wanted it... be-be you...' Mycroft slurred.

Greg stared. 'What?'

'I w-wanted... _want_... y-you,' Mycroft murmured. He reached out, stroking a hand along Greg's stomach. 'Al-always... you...'

'You... you want me?' Greg asked. Mycroft nodded. 'Even after today?'

Suddenly Mycroft stumbled back and Greg went with him, keep the red-head standing.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft slurred, sounding like he was in pain. 'I'm s-so sorry.'

'About what?' Greg asked. Mycroft was swaying more than before and Greg made him sit on the bed.

'Today,' Mycroft said, practically whimpering, 'I didn't mean to-to push you a-away, I'm sorry.'

'It's okay, Mycroft, you didn't do anything wrong.'

Suddenly Mycroft grabbed Greg's arms and tugged him forward, making Greg stumble and lean against him. 'Please don't leave,' Mycroft begged. 'I'll do anything, j-just d-don't...'

'Hey, hey,' Greg said, grabbing Mycroft by the chin and making the auburn-haired teen look at him. 'I'm not going anywhere, Mycroft, okay?'

Mycroft stared at him.

'I'm not going anywhere,' Greg repeated.

'Promise?' Mycroft whispered.

Greg nodded. 'I promise.' He leaned forward and pressed their lips together, his heart skipping a beat when Mycroft kissed back. He felt so... so _complete_ , like nothing bad could ever happen now that Mycroft was back with him.

His kisses turned hard and he pushed Mycroft back, the younger teen falling onto his back and grunting when Greg sat on his lap. They both panted and grunted as they rutted against each other, and Greg moaned as his fingers found Mycroft's belt, quickly pulling at the buckle.

'N-No,' Mycroft whimpered, so softly that Greg didn't hear him. Mycroft grabbed Greg's hands and squeezed hard before snarling, 'No!'

Greg stopped immediately and pulled back, sitting straight and looking down at Mycroft. 'What's wrong?'

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his eyes, looking so... _defeated_ , that Greg felt his heart skip a beat. 'I'm tired, Greg,' Mycroft mumbled, and Greg didn't think he meant generally needing sleep.

'Okay,' Greg said, 'um... you can stay here if you want.' Mycroft eyed him wearily and Greg said, 'Just sleep. I'll keep my hands to myself, honest.'

Mycroft continued to stare at him before finally nodding. Greg helped him off the bed and drew the blankets back while Mycroft struggled to take his shoes off. Greg had to help him with that too and was soon pushing Mycroft onto the bed.

Greg checked to make sure his chair was still against the door before climbing in after him. He drew the covers back up and Mycroft snuggled into his side, Greg watching him carefully.

Silence descended, Mycroft with his eyes closed and Greg shuffling to get comfortable. After a few minutes Greg glanced down at the drunk, half-asleep teenager curled up beside him. He chewed on his lip for a minute before saying, 'Mycroft?'

'Hnn...'

'Can... can I ask you something?' Greg said.

'Mm, 'f you wan',' Mycroft slurred.

Greg wet his lips before saying, 'Why haven't we had sex yet?' When Mycroft didn't answer, he added, 'Don't get me wrong, I love what we're doing together, and I like hanging out with you. But... well, with your reputation, and mine, I was just wonderin' why... why we haven't had... you know, penetrative sex.'

Mycroft still remained silent and Greg shifted on the bed, looking down at him. His eyes were closed, hiding the bright blue colour that Greg loved. His lips were slightly parted and his ginger-brown hair was curling over his forehead.

Figuring Mycroft had fallen asleep, Greg sighed and settled back.

'I like you,' Mycroft mumbled.

Greg jolted. 'What?'

'I like you, Greg,' Mycroft mumbled again, nuzzling further into Greg's shoulder.

'You... you like me?' Greg asked. Mycroft hummed and nodded. 'Um... like, you _fancy_ me?' Greg asked to clarify.

'Mm, I fancy you,' Mycroft whispered with a slight nod. 'Have for... y-years...'

Greg's mouth dropped open. Mycroft... _fancied_ him?

'So...'

'Don't wanna be just... just a... shag,' Mycroft muttered drunkenly. 'D-Don't want you to... move... move on,' Mycroft said. 'Like you too... much...'

Mycroft trailed off and a soft snore rumbled against Greg's arm as the other teen fell asleep. Greg was frozen, staring at Mycroft, eyes wide. Mycroft... _liked_ him? Him, Gregory Lestrade?

Greg finally leaned back, making sure not to disturb Mycroft. Well, that certainly explained a lot; like why Mycroft had suddenly decided to show Greg who he really was, why Mycroft was fine with snogging a bloke who'd been nothing but a prick to him for two years, and also why Mycroft wanted to take things slow.

He was worried Greg would lose interest and leave. Or Greg would finally get a shag and move on, already looking for the next hot body. Greg sighed and rubbed his eyes. This was what he got for shagging random blokes.

But couldn't Mycroft see that Greg didn't _want_ random blokes? He wanted him, Mycroft, now and... forever. Greg bit his lip, glancing down at Mycroft again. Greg had slept around because no one was worth more than a shag, maybe two.

But Mycroft... Mycroft had occupied Greg's mind since that first night he'd seen the _real_ Mycroft, the one who wore leather trousers and make-up. Ever since then Greg hadn't gone more than a few hours without thinking about Mycroft.

Greg hesitated before leaning down and pressing his lips to Mycroft's forehead. Mycroft smiled in his sleep and snuggled closer to Greg, Greg shuffling a bit until he was looking at Mycroft's closed eyes.

He thought about what Mycroft had said, and everything that had happened since first setting eyes on the real Mycroft.

He also thought about his own feelings, and everything his mum, Dimmock and Molly had been saying to him for weeks.

Greg sighed. _Dimmock was right_ , he thought before trying to get some sleep. Mycroft was still there, even when he closed his eyes. And he couldn't help but smile slightly.

He liked Mycroft.

And Mycroft liked him too.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg was woken by a low groaning sound followed by a whimper. Something beside him moved and an elbow to the gut had him sitting up and wincing, his duvet falling to bunch around his waist as he grunted in pain.

He rubbed his eyes viciously, trying to push away the last remnants of sleep, and turned. Mycroft was trying to get up- or having a seizure, Greg didn't know. He had one arm wrapped around his stomach, the other pressed hard against the mattress as he tried to pull himself up-right.

'Mycroft?'

Mycroft jolted and turned, groaning as he did. His face was flushed, his hair all over the place, and he looked like he was going to be violently ill. Remembering how drunk Mycroft had been the previous night, Greg thought that was a real possibility.

'You okay?' Greg asked, sitting up straighter.

'Stomach...' Mycroft moaned, 'hurts... pain... sick...'

'Yeah, hangovers'll do that to ya,' Greg yawned. 'Come on.' He climbed out of bed and helped Mycroft up. He checked the time on his alarm and saw that it was almost 6 am; Maggie wouldn't be home till nine, so Greg had time to get Mycroft cleaned up.

The red-head allowed Greg to get him standing and together they shuffled out of Greg's bedroom and down the hallway. Greg pushed the bathroom door open with his foot and tugged Mycroft in.

Mycroft went straight to the sink and grappled with the taps, eventually giving up and looking at Greg. Greg chuckled and Mycroft gave him a glare, but looked away in order to wash his mouth out and splash his face.

When Mycroft groaned again Greg asked, 'Wanna have a shower?' Mycroft nodded weakly. 'Good, 'cause you smell like shit.' Mycroft grunted and Greg continued, 'I'm not that much bigger than you, you can borrow some clothes.'

Mycroft nodded again and Greg went to the shower. He pushed the curtain aside and turned the taps on, testing the water with his hand before pulling back. He went to leave but Mycroft caught his wrist, making the brunette look at him.

'Thank you,' Mycroft mumbled.

'No worries,' Greg said with a smile. 'I'll make some coffee and you should have toast.' Mycroft groaned at the thought of food and Greg chuckled. 'Hey, it's either that or Maccas cheeseburgers; seriously, Maccas is _the_ best hangover food.'

'Mmf,' Mycroft grunted.

'Actually, I might go get some sausage McMuffins; you want any?'

Mycroft made a waving motion with one hand- Greg took it as a yes- and started stripping. Greg left him to it and went back to his room to get dressed.

 

{oOo}

 

When Greg got back- two coffees balanced in one hand and a bag of greasy food in the other- Mycroft was sitting at the older teen's desk. He had a large blue towel wrapped around his waist and two white pills sitting beside his hand.

He looked up when Greg walked in and said, 'Black, two sugars?'

'Yup,' Greg nodded. He'd hung around Mycroft long enough to know how the other teen took his coffee. 'And some muffins and hashbrowns.'

'Don't care,' Mycroft growled, grabbing the coffee Greg indicated. He popped the pills into his mouth and took a sip, groaning as the bitter liquid hit his tongue.

'You gotta eat, Mycroft,' Greg said, putting the food and his own coffee on the desk. 'And get dressed.' He paused, eyes roaming over the other boy. 'Though I kinda like you sittin' around my room half naked.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes but a small smile was playing on his face. They were silent as Greg grabbed a pair of black jeans, a blue-striped polo shirt, and a white t-shirt. Most of his better shirts were dirty, so Mycroft would just have to do. Besides, if Mycroft had a problem with the shirt, he could wear a jacket.

Mycroft took the clothes without fuss and quickly dressed, pulling on his own boxers while he did. Greg tried not to stare but really, there was a hot guy getting naked in his room; what was he supposed to do?

'Pervert,' Mycroft muttered.

'Exhibitionist,' Greg retorted.

Mycroft chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. He grabbed his coffee and Greg handed him a muffin. Mycroft wrinkled his nose but Greg continued to stare, so he eventually took it and peeled the wrapper open.

'How can something so small hold so much oil?' Mycroft mused.

'Dummo,' Greg mumbled through a mouthful of his own muffin, grinning when Mycroft glared at him. They ate in silence- Greg devouring two muffins and two hashbrowns while Mycroft picked at his own.

Greg kept glancing at Mycroft from the corner of his eye, wondering if he should bring up what they'd talked about last night. Either Mycroft remembered and didn't want to talk about it, or he'd been so drunk his mind had erased it.

'Where's your mother?' Mycroft asked, seeming to just realise that he and Greg were alone in the house.

'Took the night shift at the hospital,' Greg said, playing with the lid on his coffee cup. 'Won't be home till... nine or ten, depends when she gets outta there. Sometimes she stays longer; sleeps in the doctor's lounge, but she'll call if they need her longer.'

'Right,' Mycroft said. 'She works hard.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Always has. Missed a lot of my childhood, you know; football and cricket games, parent-teacher nights, shit like that. But I'm used to it. Besides, she had to work to pay for food and stuff.'

Mycroft nodded slowly before saying, 'Gregory, what happened to your father?'

Greg jolted, almost choking on the sip of coffee he'd just swallowed. He coughed and bashed his fist against his chest, his other hand slamming his coffee onto his desk.

When he could breathe properly he asked, 'W-What?'

'I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry,' Mycroft said, looking worried over Greg's reaction. He sat poised on the edge of Greg's bed, like he was ready to run. 'I've just never heard you talk about him.'

'Yeah, well, not much to talk about,' Greg coughed. He downed some of his coffee and cleared his throat. 'My old man walked out when I was four. Mum picked me up from Dimmock's, we got home, and there was a note from him, sayin' he'd taken off. His stuff was gone, all the money he and Mum had saved. He didn't wanna be a dad, didn't wanna stay with Mum, so he took off; he just... left.'

He shrugged lightly and Mycroft said, 'I'm sorry.'

'Doesn't matter,' Greg said, looking up at the other teenager. 'I didn't know him long enough to miss him.'

'But you do,' Mycroft said.

Greg chuckled. 'I miss the thought of a dad, you know? Having someone to go to games with, someone to talk to about being a man, that kind of stuff. But Mum's been both parents all my life.'

Mycroft nodded.

'What brought this on?' Greg asked.

'I don't know,' Mycroft said. 'I was just thinking about my father and realised I knew nothing about yours.'

'Yeah, well... now you know,' Greg shrugged. He finished off his coffee and threw the empty cup in his bin along with Mycroft's. 'So...' Greg hummed.

'I'm sorry about last night,' Mycroft cut in. 'I don't remember how drunk I was but I'm sure I embarrassed myself.'

'Um... just a little bit,' Greg said, holding his thumb and index finger close together. 'But not a lot; nothing I haven't seen and done before.'

'Thank you for letting me stay here, and getting me breakfast,' Mycroft smiled. 'I owe you.'

'You can make it up to me; buy me breakfast another day,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft chuckled and ran a hand over his face.

'Feel any better?' Greg asked.

'A little bit; the coffee definitely helped, but I need another one,' Mycroft said, rolling his neck. 'And I need to get home and make sure Mrs Hudson hasn't called the police looking for me.'

'She cares about you,' Greg said.

'Yes,' Mycroft said, a small smile playing at his lips. 'She really does, doesn't she?'

It made Greg angry, knowing that Mycroft had never really had an adult who cared about him. It was clear Mr and Mrs Holmes cared little for their sons; the only adults who seemed to give a crap were Mr Andrew and Mrs Hudson.

'Right,' Greg said. 'So, um...'

'Spend the day with me?' Mycroft asked suddenly.

Greg blinked. 'What?'

'I was thinking... there's this spot I want to show you, near Artemis Catholic School. We can maybe spend some time at my place before getting some lunch and heading out.'

Greg hesitated, thinking about what Mycroft had accidently let slip the night before. He knew they had to talk about it; well, Greg had to talk about how he felt. Because he knew that Mycroft liked him, but Mycroft didn't know that Greg felt the same way. And Greg had to say something before Mycroft left permanently.

But first, he needed some advice.

'Um... yeah,' Greg nodded, 'I just gotta go see Dimmo about something. Can I meet you somewhere?'

Mycroft blinked before smiling. 'Leave your bike at Dimmock's, I'll pick you up there after I stop home.'

'M'kay,' Greg smiled. They both stood and Greg pressed a soft kiss to Mycroft's lips. 'See you in... two hours?'

Mycroft nodded and, after one last kiss, grabbed his stuff and left.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg left a note for his mum and headed over to Dimmock's. The other teenager had just finished washing his car and turned as Greg pulled up, parking his bike beside the BMW.

'Hey...' Dimmock said slowly.

'Hey,' Greg echoed.

The two stood staring at each other until Greg started rubbing his bruised and scabbed knuckles.

'Um... about yesterday-' Dimmock began, only for Greg to cut in.

'S'my fault,' he said gruffly, staring at the ground. 'I was just... m'sorry, okay?'

'Okay...'

'I... can I explain everything?' Greg asked. 'Can we just talk?'

Dimmock nodded and turned the hose off, wiping his hands on his jeans. He led Greg out the back and the two sat on the swingset the Dimmocks had owned since Greg and Dimmock were four. Greg lit a cigarette and Dimmock did the same, the two falling into silence as they stared across the yard.

'Dimmo...?'

'Mm?'

Greg chewed on his lip, smoke curling around his face. 'Um... you know all that shit you've been saying to me?'

'I say a lot of fucked up stuff, you'll have to be more specific,' Dimmock said with a smile.

Greg smiled back weakly before saying, 'Well... all that shit about... about me liking Mycroft...'

Dimmock turned to face him, his light brown eyes settling on Greg's darker ones.

'Dimmo?'

'Yeah, I know what I've been saying,' Dimmock said. 'Why?'

'Um...' Greg trailed off and turned away, biting his lip.

Dimmock's eyes went wide, mouth dropping open and cigarette forgotten. 'Oh my fucking God.' Greg sighed. 'Are you finally admitting it?'

'Well...'

'Greg-'

'Mycroft came over last night,' Greg said, Dimmock raising his eyebrows. 'He was drunk and we just made out a bit before he got tired, so I said he could stay; he'd walked from Matt Sanders' house.'

'Okay...'

'He... well, I asked why we hadn't had sex yet,' Greg admitted.

'You haven't had _sex_ yet?' Dimmock demanded.

Greg blushed slightly. 'We've done, like, _everything_ else,' he said. 'Just no actual... um... penetration.'

'Why not?'

Greg sighed, scuffing the grass with his sneaker. 'I asked him that last night and he said... he said he liked me.'

'Mycroft likes you?'

'Yeah, he _like_ likes me,' Greg said. 'He said he fancied me and was waiting because he didn't just want to be a random shag for me.'

Dimmock whistled before inhaling a lungful of smoke as he pushed back and forth on the swing.

'Greg,' he finally said, 'are you really surprised that he likes you?'

'I was at first,' Greg said, 'but... well, it's kinda obvious now that I think about it.'

Dimmock snorted.

'I... I dunno what to do,' Greg mumbled. 'I think... well, I... um...'

'You...?' Dimmock pressed.

'I... I think-' Dimmock scoffed and Greg sighed, 'I _know_ that... that I... I...'

'For fuck's sake, Greg-'

'I like him,' Greg mumbled.

'You like who?'

'M-Mycroft...'

'You like Mycroft?' Dimmock asked. Greg nodded. 'You _fancy_ Mycroft Holmes?' Another nod. 'Finally!' Dimmock shouted, throwing his hands in the air. 'Jesus fucking _Christ_ do you know how to deny shit, Greg! You were so far up de-Nile you were wrestling with fucking alligators! You were building a house in Egypt and setting up shop. You were-'

'I fuckin' get it,' Greg cut in, scowling when Dimmock snickered at him. 'But... but how do I know that I _really_ like him?' Greg asked, now looking at Dimmock with clear worry in his eyes. 'I don't wanna hurt him, Dimmo, and what if I don't really like him? What if I just want sex and then Mycroft gets more attached and... and...'

'Okay, just stop right now,' Dimmock said, grabbing Greg's shoulder. 'If you just wanted sex you wouldn't be fucking worrying about hurting Mycroft, right?'

'I suppose so,' Greg murmured.

'Exactly,' Dimmock said. 'Christ, Greg, it's _obvious_ that you fucking like him, I've been saying that since the first time I caught you two snogging!'

'But why now?' Greg demanded. 'I've been with dozens of guys, why do I suddenly like just one?'

Dimmock tisked. 'Greg, Mycroft isn't like those random shags you've had. Mycroft's kept your attention for months and you still wanna be around him. How long did all your one-night stands keep your attention for?'

'Um... up until I pulled out,' Greg admitted.

'Exactly,' Dimmock said. 'Mycroft's obviously offering more than any of those guys. Just... think about what Mycroft has that they don't.'

'What?'

'Tell me what Mycroft has that they don't,' Dimmock said.

Greg blinked at him before looking away, taking a long drag of his smoke and ashing it over the grass. 'Well...' he finally began, staring at his shoes, 'Mycroft's... Mycroft, you know?' Dimmock just waited. 'He's super smart, he has that crazy intelligence that's just... at first I thought it made him a posh dick, but now I just see it as a major turn on.'

'Yeah?'

Greg nodded, a small smile beginning to tug at his lips. 'He's bloody sexy too. I dunno how I didn't see that when we first met. He's just got that amazing arse, and his body, his hair, his fucking eyes... and he's got these freckles all over his back and shoulders, they're just so fucking... I dunno, _cute_!'

Dimmock smiled as Greg started rambling, his cigarette burning out.

'We have so much in common, but even our differences make him attractive,' Greg admitted. 'He's so different, but similar to me at the same time. He challenges me, he keeps me interested in every conversation we have, and... he's just amazing to be around, you know?'

'Mm,' Dimmock hummed non-committedly.

'I dunno, it's not just _one_ thing that I like, it's... dozens and dozens,' Greg said softly. 'He's just fucking incredible; I dunno why he's wasting his time with me. I... I just like him so much.'

'Greg?'

Greg blinked from his thoughts and turned to his best mate, who was grinning. 'What?'

'Did you just fucking hear yourself?' Dimmock asked.

The other teenager frowned as he went over his words before turning an amazing shade of red. Dimmock chuckled and Greg huffed, 'Shut up.'

'You fucking like him, dude,' Dimmock said, clapping Greg on the back. 'Fuck, sounds like you're in love with him.'

'I AM NOT!'

Dimmock sighed, 'So you're gonna fight me on that too.' He smirked at a still-blushing Greg. 'You want my advice?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

'Go to Mycroft, kiss him, and tell him how you fucking feel,' Dimmock said. 'He won't wait around forever, Greg, and you don't want to fuck this up, alright?'

'But what if he doesn't like me that much?' Greg asked. 'What if he wasn't telling the truth? I mean, he was drunk-'

'Jesus fucking Christ, you really are a dickhead,' Dimmock groaned. He grabbed Greg by the chin, squeezing tightly and making the older boy look at him. 'Mycroft Holmes fucking loves you, Greg, alright? He's liked you for years, everyone can fucking see it, and he _told_ you that he liked you! So just go and fucking tell him how you feel!'

He gave Greg another squeeze and the other boy swatted his hand away, Dimmock grinning.

'You're a prick,' Greg grumbled.

'I love you too,' Dimmock retorted.

They both leaned back on the swings as they fell into silence, lighting fresh smokes and staring across the grass.

'Michael?' Greg murmured.

Dimmock jumped at hearing his first name come from Greg's lips and turned. 'Yeah?'

'Thank you,' Greg said softly.

Dimmock blinked before smiling. 'No worries, mate.'

'And I'm sorry for what I said the yesterday,' Greg mumbled, 'and for grabbing you like that. I was outta line.'

'It doesn't matter, Greg,' Dimmock said. 'Mates piss each other off all the time. Best friends know when to forgive and forget.'

He grinned at Greg, who smiled back and sucked back on his cigarette, blowing smoke above their heads.


	38. Fell For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Fell For You by Green Day
> 
>  **Author's Note:** My email's been blocked, so I haven't been able to read the notifications that say you've left a comment on my story. I promise I'll read them when I get a chance, and thank you for taking the time to leave a comment :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

As promised, Mycroft turned up at Dimmock's in his Jag. He wasn't wearing any make-up and he looked exhausted; there were dark bags under his eyes and his face was a little pale.

'Are you sure you're up for anything?' Greg asked as he pulled his seat belt on. 'Maybe you should go home and get some rest.'

'I'm fine,' Mycroft said. He pulled onto the road and Greg sat back. 'Besides, my father's working from home today.'

His fingers tightened minutely on the wheel, and Greg remembered all the stuff he'd picked up about Siger Holmes; it was clear Mycroft didn't like his father, and John didn't either. Well with what Greg knew, he wouldn't like him either. In fact, he _didn't_ like him. Anyone who hated people just because of who they were attracted to deserved to be hated.

'You sure?' Greg asked. 'We could just hang out somewhere.'

'I assure you I'm fine,' Mycroft said before hesitated. 'I didn't embarrass myself last night, did I?'

Greg thought about Mycroft's behaviour the previous night, and what the other teenager had let slip. 'Nah, nothin' I haven't done myself.'

'Good,' Mycroft breathed a sigh of relief.

'Um... you said some bloke hit on you?' Greg said. He noted that Mycroft sighed slightly, fingers once again flexing on the steering wheel.

'Some guy from Artemis Catholic School kept hitting on me,' he told Greg. 'His name was Aaron, I think. He kept putting his arm around me and suggesting we go to his car and do all manner of things. I kept telling him no and then he kissed me. After that he was almost introduced to my fist.'

Greg felt a flash of jealousy course through him; he didn't want anyone touching Mycroft but _him_. At least now he knew why. _Maybe Dimmo will stop with the teasing now that I've admitted it,_ Greg mused. He snorted. _Yeah, right. The jokes'll probably get worse._

'After almost punching him, Benjamin and Matthew threw him out,' Mycroft continued. 'I was fairly drunk by that point and they offered to call me a taxi, but I told them I'd walk to your house. Dimmock and Molly walked out with me and made sure I got down the street okay.'

Greg opened his mouth to ask where this Aaron lived- maybe he could go and whack him, make sure the guy knew that Mycroft was taken- but was stopped from asking anything when Mycroft's mobile rang.

 _Kill The DJ_ by Green Day started playing and Greg grinned at the lyrics; _Someone kill the DJ, shoot the fuckin' DJ, someone kill the DJ, shoot the fucker now._

'Damn it,' Mycroft huffed, digging into his pocket as he drove. 'Can you get that?' he asked.

Greg nodded and leaned across the console, sliding his fingers into Mycroft's pocket. Mycroft squirmed and Greg made sure to poke him good and hard, making Mycroft scowl at him.

Greg pulled out the BlackBerry and saw the caller ID. 'It's Sherlock.'

'Just answer and ask what he wants,' Mycroft said.

Greg did as told, answering with a high-pitched, 'Mycroft Holmes' phone, this is Gregory Lestrade speaking; how may I help you today?'

Mycroft giggled and Greg heard Sherlock huff through the phone. ' _What the bloody hell are you doing with my brother's mobile?_ '

'Mycroft's indisposed at the moment,' Greg answered.

' _Doing what?_ ' Sherlock demanded.

'I have him tied to my bed; he ain't goin' anywhere,' Greg said, grinning when he heard Sherlock choke. 'Now, how can I-'

' _Fuck you, Lestrade_ ,' Sherlock cut in.

'That's rude. You should respect your elders, shorty.'

' _I'll be taller than you when I grow upa_ ,' Sherlock sniffed.

'Yeah, when you grow up,' Greg said with an eye roll. 'At the moment you're a teeny tiny prat.'

' _I'll kill you slowly; no one will ever find the body_ ,' Sherlock said.

Greg remembered Mycroft saying the same thing just after he'd had dinner at Holmes Manor and chuckled.

' _Lestrade, where is my brother?_ ' Sherlock asked.

'He's fuckin' drivin', alright?' Greg said. 'So what do you want?'

Sherlock huffed but said, ' _Just tell him that Father had to go away on business; he'll be gone until next weekend. So it's safe to come home_.'

'Excellent,' Greg beamed. 'Your dad's a fucker, you know that?'

Mycroft threw him an amused look and even Sherlock laughed.

' _Yeah, he is_ ,' the younger Holmes agreed. ' _Anyway, just tell Mycroft that. But also tell him that we don't let whores in._ '

'So where's he gonna sleep?' Greg questioned.

' _Hey, that's my brother!_ ' Sherlock snapped.

'And we do very adult things together,' Greg said, waggling his eyebrows even though Sherlock couldn't see him.

The younger teenager growled and Greg heard John Watson in the background, saying, ' _Sherlock, play nice_.'

'Yeah, play nice, Sherlock,' Greg teased.

'Is John with him?' Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded as Sherlock said, ' _Fuck you, Lestrade_.'

'I love you too,' Greg said. He made kissing noises before saying, 'Cheerio.'

' _You're a bag of laughs_ ,' Sherlock muttered before hanging up.

'Your brother's quite rude,' Greg sniffed. 'Honestly, what a foul mouth.'

Mycroft snorted. 'What did he want?'

'Just called to say your dad's gone away on business and won't be back 'til next weekend,' Greg said. He leaned back across the console and slid Mycroft's mobile back into his pocket.

Mycroft breathed out a sigh of relief. 'Thank God. He's barely ever home, which makes hating him far easier.'

'I can see how that helps,' Greg nodded. 'I mean, I don't know your dad, but he sounds like a... um...'

'Bastard?' Mycroft supplied. Greg nodded again. 'He is,' Mycroft sighed. 'He barely acknowledges my and Sherlock's existence. It surprises him when he looks up at the dinner table and realises there are other people there besides Mother.'

'Has he always been like that?' Greg asked.

'As long as I can remember,' Mycroft nodded. 'He only had me to carry on the Holmes name. His brother died when they were fourteen- they were twins- so it was left to my father to have a son to continue the Holmes line.'

'Right,' Greg nodded but said nothing else, letting Mycroft continue.

'It was expected of him to have a son; his mother and father were very strict on that. They died when I was seven, Sherlock was three. He barely paid attention to me and I didn't think he'd change for Sherlock. We were mostly raised by Mrs Lander, who was brought on when Sherlock was two.'

'So you've known Anthea most of your life?' Greg asked, remembering that the girl was Mrs Lander's daughter.

'Yes, she's been my only real friend,' Mycroft said. 'She doesn't always understand me, but she's always been there for me and Sherlock.'

'I'm glad you have her,' Greg said. He hated to think about Mycroft's home life. The Holmeses might be rich, but money didn't buy happiness. Greg had always been happy; his mum was a great parent, and he had Dimmock growing up. Greg had always had people who cared about him.

Mycroft hadn't. Him drinking, hiding who he was, and getting addicted to cocaine was enough to support that theory. But at least he'd had Sherlock; Greg had the feeling that Sherlock was the reason Mycroft had got clean. They might have bickered and acted like they hated each other, but if you really looked it was clear that the brothers loved one another.

'I am too,' Mycroft said, smiling at Greg.

'So, we still headin' out?' Greg asked.

'Well, now that Father isn't home, we can stop by my house, if you wish,' Mycroft said. 'I need to buy some alcohol; it's already Sunday and I won't have time during the week.'

'Sounds fine,' Greg said. 'I'm not in any hurry to go anywhere.'

'I was thinking we could get some lunch before heading to the spot I was talking about,' Mycroft said. 'Maybe Chinese?'

'Mm, haven't had Chinese in ages,' Greg agreed. 'Satay prawns, maybe some type of soup.'

'And prawn crackers, you always have to have prawn crackers,' Mycroft smiled. 'There's a nice place around the corner from my house, next to the liquor store.'

'Well we can always eat at your place,' Greg said.

'Sounds like a plan,' Mycroft smiled, and Greg smiled back.

 

{oOo}

 

Mycroft picked up a case of his favourite beer as well as two bottles of bourbon. His fake ID was perfect and Greg made a note to ask him where he'd got it. Although, knowing Mycroft, the genius had made it himself.

After putting the alcohol in Mycroft's car they went to the Chinese restaurant on the corner. Mycroft ordered boiled rice, curried chicken, and a dozen spring rolls. He also got his prawn crackers. Greg went with fried rice and satay prawns, while also getting a small soup-type thing. They stood outside smoking and chatting until their food was ready, and afterwards they drove to Mycroft's house.

They left the alcohol in the car, deciding to go back and grab it after they'd eaten. They didn't run into anyone and made it to Mycroft's room within minutes. Mycroft headed into his wardrobe and Greg followed, smiling when the younger teen opened up his secret room.

The two stepped inside and dumped their food on the sofa. Mycroft turned his CD player on and put the new Green Day CD, _¡Uno!_ , on. Greg nodded along to _Nuclear Family_ as he pulled the plastic bags open.

He shoved a spring roll into his mouth and Mycroft tutted. 'Did I say you could have one?'

'Did you say I _couldn't_ have one?' Greg countered. Mycroft chuckled as he sat. 'Besides, there's still eleven there. _And_ your prawn chips and your rice _and_ -'

He was cut off when Mycroft shoved another springroll into his mouth and he scowled as he chewed. 'Not funny,' he huffed when he'd swallowed. He jabbed the half-eaten springroll at Mycroft. 'I coulda choked.'

'And we'd all be devastated if you did,' Mycroft drawled.

'Ooh, nasty,' Greg hummed. 'Maybe if you eat it'll soak up the bastard you seemed to have drank this morning.'

'Sorry, sorry,' Mycroft chuckled.

Greg grinned and sat on the sofa beside him, the two falling into silence as they pulled their food out. Mycroft broke the wooden chopsticks up and passed Greg a pair, the older teen grunting in thanks.

The silence continued as they started eating, Greg suddenly finding himself famished. He'd eaten about three hours earlier but still; he was a growing boy.

'Glad to see you're willing to eat,' Greg commented when Mycroft popped a piece of chicken into his mouth.

'Chinese food is a lot more satisfying for a hangover than greasy muffins,' Mycroft said.

'Oi, those are _Mc_ Muffins,' Greg said, pointing his chopsticks at the red-head. 'Don't diss McDonalds McMuffins or I'll McFuckin' punch you.'

'Isn't that _Mc_ Punch me?' Mycroft teased.

Greg poked him with his chopsticks and Mycroft batted them away. 'Excuse me, this shirt is expensive.'

'It's a Fall Out Boy shirt,' Greg said with an eye-roll. He sniffed disdainfully as he looked at the black band shirt. 'It's a lot better with some grease... and maybe some lighter fluid.'

'Don't get me started on The Offspring,' Mycroft warned.

Greg held up his hands. 'Shutting up.'

Mycroft chuckled and said, 'At least we agree on Green Day, The Living End, and My Chemical Romance.'

'Yeah well they're not- okay, okay, Jesus.' He cut himself off halfway through when Mycroft thumped him in the thigh. 'God, I was just jokin'.'

'Don't test me, Gregory,' Mycroft warned. 'I'm still hungover.'

'Alright, I'm sorry,' Greg said. He leaned across and pressed a kiss to Mycroft's lips. 'Feel better?'

'Maybe,' Mycroft said. His hand shot out and he nicked a prawn, popping it into his mouth and chewing around a smile.

'Bastard,' Greg huffed.

'Don't make me shove a spring roll into your mouth.'

'Ooh, you sure like shovin' stuff in my mouth,' Greg grinned, wriggling his eyebrows. His grin widened at the blush that quickly washed across Mycroft's cheeks.

'Shut up,' Mycroft muttered when Greg started giggling. He stood and put his plastic container down before walking across the room and to the clothes rack in the corner. He pushed a few jackets aside to reveal a small fridge.

'I didn't notice that last time,' Greg mused.

Mycroft smiled and pulled the small grey door open. 'Want a beer?'

'Please,' Greg nodded. Mycroft grabbed two bottles from the fridge and shut the door before sitting back on the sofa. 'You sure you wanna drink?' Greg asked.

'I'm only having one, maybe two,' Mycroft shrugged. 'I'll be fine to drive.'

'As long as you're sure,' Greg said as he accepted the bottle from the other boy. He twisted the cap free and took a drink. 'Mm, tasty.'

'Is there a reason you didn't go to the party last night?' Mycroft asked. 'Dimmock was there with his girlfriend, but he wouldn't tell me why you hadn't come.'

Greg hesitated before deciding to go with the truth. 'Um... well, after our fight, I didn't feel much up to partying.'

'Oh,' Mycroft said, fiddling with his food. 'I'm sorry about that.'

'Not your fault,' Greg shook his head. 'I let my own shit get to me and hurt the people around me.' He glanced at his bruised and scabbed knuckles, Mycroft following his train of sight.

'What happened?'

'Um... I hit the wall,' Greg admitted.

'Why would you do something like that?' Mycroft demanded. He put his food aside again and grabbed Greg's hand, holding it softly in his own. Greg shivered slightly at the feel of Mycroft's skin on his own, and swallowed thickly when the other teenager gently ran a thumb over the bruised skin.

'I was just mad,' Greg murmured. 'I tend to hit things when I get mad; never people. Well... unless they piss me off too much.'

He flashed Mycroft a smile, but the other boy continued to stare at Greg's injured hand.

'I'm fine, honestly,' Greg said. 'I put some antiseptic cream on it before I went to bed.'

'Are you sure?' Mycroft asked. Greg nodded. 'Were you angry at me?' he then asked.

'No, I was angry at _me_ ,' Greg said. 'I was just thinking too much, and something Dimmock said got to me.'

Mycroft scowled and looked up. 'What did Dimmock say?'

'Nothin', it doesn't matter,' Greg said dismissively. The last thing he needed was Mycroft demanding answers from Dimmock. Though Greg _did_ plan to tell Mycroft how he felt, he wanted to be the one to do it. He didn't want Mycroft to hear about his feelings from Dimmock. 'Honest,' Greg said when it looked like Mycroft was going to fight him.

Mycroft looked at him carefully, searching Greg's eyes for the truth. Greg just waited patiently until finally Mycroft nodded and let Greg's hand go. They both went back to their food, neither one talking.

But it was a comfortable silence, neither needing to fill it with mindless garbage. Greg smiled every time Mycroft looked his way, hoping the other teenager was going to let it go.

Finally Mycroft smiled back and leaned across the sofa, closing the distance between them and pressing a soft, gentle kiss to Greg's lips. At that moment Greg wondered why the hell he'd denied how he felt for so long.

He supposed it didn't matter. Soon enough, Mycroft would be his.


	39. Jesus of Suburbia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Jesus of Suburbia by Green Day
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Jesus of Suburbia was written by Billie Joe Armstrong and belongs to Green Day
> 
>  **Warning:** Trigger warning for slight sexual harrassment and slight non-con between Greg and John.

After they'd stuffed themselves with food, Greg groaned and patted his stomach as he went to grab another beer. Mycroft was only halfway through his and shook his head when Greg asked if he wanted another.

Mycroft disappeared briefly to throw out their rubbish and Greg put the leftover food in the fridge before turning to the CD player. He liked Green Day's new stuff- it reminded him a bit of their earlier music before _American Idiot_ and _21st Century Breakdown_. But he was in the mood for some _American Idiot_ so quickly found the CD and put it on.

'What are you doing?' Mycroft asked when he re-entered the secret room, closing the hidden door behind him.

'Changing the CD,' Greg said.

'Do you not like _¡Uno!_?' Mycroft asked.

'I do,' Greg said as he pressed a few buttons on Mycroft's CD player, 'it's a bit like their early stuff; _Nimrod, Warning,_ ya know?' Mycroft nodded. 'But I feel like listening to _American Idiot_ ; why, is that a crime?'

'Maybe; this _is_ my room,' Mycroft said.

Greg just grinned as he pressed play. There was a few seconds silence before the guitar rift for _American Idiot_ sounded and Greg started jumping around, playing what appeared to be air-guitar, and clapping his hands together during the drum parts. Mycroft couldn't help but smile as Greg darted back and forth around the room, singing along to _American Idiot_ and using the walls as a drum kit.

He seemed to really like the "faggot" part and sang that particularly loudly, Mycroft's lips pulling into an even broader smile. Greg was so comfortable in his own skin and Mycroft couldn't help but admire him and feel a little jealous. He'd never be able to jump around like that- making an absolute fool of himself- and have fun in the process. But Gregory could, because he was just so... _Gregory_.

The guitar-solo started and Greg danced around Mycroft, using Mycroft's body as a guitar and making the taller boy squirm as heat pooled in his crotch. Greg licked Mycroft's neck, making Mycroft gasp, and sang, 'Is going out to idiot America!'

He kept on going, never seeming to tire as he shouted loudly and bounced off the walls of Mycroft's secret room. When it was finally over, Greg slammed himself into the wall, back against it, arms spread, and went silent.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow as the music cut off, the CD moving to the next track.

' _Dun, dun, dun_ \- I'm the son of rage and love!' Greg shouted, making Mycroft snort. ' _Dun, dun, dun_ \- the Jesus of Suburbia, of the bible of, none of the above, on a steady diet _ooff_...' He trailed off and jumped to the guitar and drums before continuing.

'Soda pop and Ritalin- _bam, bam, bam_ \- no one ever died for my sins in hell, as far as I can tell, at least the ones I got away with!' He pointed at Mycroft, head flapping up and down. 'And there's nothing wrong with me,' Greg sang loudly, 'this is how I'm supposed to _bee_ -' he ran his hands over his body, Mycroft chuckling, '- in a land of make believe, that don't believe in _mee_!'

Greg grabbed the cricket bat leaning against the wall, slotting it into his arms like it was a guitar. Mycroft raised an eyebrow as Greg started playing along to the song.

'You know there's an actual guitar, right there,' he said, pointing at the black and white Fender.

'I don't know how to play,' Greg said over the music, jumping onto the armchair and playing air-guitar. 'Get my television fixed! _Dun, dun, dun_! Sitting on my crucifix-' Greg put both arms out, head dropping, looking very much like Jesus on the Crucifix, '- the living room, or my private womb, while the Moms and Brads are _awaay_! _Dun, dun, dun_! To fall in love and fall in debt- _dun, dun, dun_ \- to alcohol and cigarettes and Mary Jane, to keep me insane, doing someone else's _cocaainne_!'

He grinned at Mycroft, who was watching him with full attention.

'And there's nothing wrong with _mee_ ,' Greg shouted, 'this is how I'm supposed to _bee_ , in a land of make believe, THAT DON'T BELIEVE IN MEE!'

Mycroft laughed as Greg started swaying back and forth, still standing on the armchair. 'Have you ever been to the doctor?' he asked, having to shout to be heard over the music.

'Yeah, why?' Greg asked as the music grew slightly less manic.

'I really think you're insane.'

'There's nothing wrong with me!' Greg shouted, echoing the earlier lyrics. 'This is how I'm supposed to _bee_ -'

'I got that,' Mycroft smirked.

'Sing with me, Mycroft,' Greg shouted.

'Never.'

'Arsehole,' Greg responded, dropping the cricket bat to pretend to play the drums, Mycroft shaking his head. Greg hopped off the armchair and pulled Mycroft up.

'Gregory, no.'

'At the center of the Earth, in the parking lot, of the 7-11 where I was taught- come on, Mycroft,' Greg sang, grinning stupidly. 'The motto was just a _liiie_... it says home is where your heart is, but what a shame, 'cause everyone's heart doesn't beat the same... it's beating out of _tiimee_... Mycroft, you gotta join in or I'll do something even crazier!'

Mycroft rolled his eyes and Greg wrapped his arms around his neck, swinging Mycroft from side to side as he sang.

'City of the dead, at the end of another lost highway! Signs misleading to no _wheere_... city of the damned, lost children with dirty faces to- _day_! No one really seems to _caare_...'

He looked pointedly at Mycroft, who sighed.

'I read the graffiti in the bathroom stall,' Mycroft sang, Greg grinning, 'like the holy scriptures of the shopping mall.'

'And so it seemed to _confeeesss_!' Greg shouted.

Mycroft snorted but continued singing, this time with Greg.

'It didn't say much, but it only confirmed, that the center of the earth is the end of the world.'

'And I couldn't really care _leess_!' Greg sang, swaying back and forth with his arms still tightly around Mycroft.

'You're insane,' Mycroft chuckled.

'City of the dead,' Greg sang.

'At the end of another lost highway,' Mycroft joined in.

'Signs misleading to _nowheerree_ ,' they sang together.

'City of the damned,' Mycroft smiled.

'Lost children with dirty faces TO- _day_...'

'... no one really seems to _caaree_!' Mycroft sang.

Greg pushed him aside and started jumping around as _City of the Damned_ transitioned into _I Don't Care_. Mycroft couldn't help but laugh stupidly as Greg started hollering at the top of his lungs.

'I don't care if you don't, I don't care if you don't, I don't care if you don't _caarree_!'

'Yes, Gregory,' Mycroft said, 'we get it.'

'I don't care if you don't, I don't care if you don't, I don't care if you don't _caarree_!' Greg repeated with a stupid grin. He sang it twice more before screaming, 'I DON'T _CAAAARRRREEEEE_!'

Mycroft was worried Greg would knock himself out with the way he was jumping around, but Greg seemed to know what he was doing.

'Everyone is so full of shit!' Greg spat, head slamming up and down, 'born and raised by hypocrites! Hearts recycled, but never saved! From the cradle always to the grave! We are the kids of war and peace! From Anaheim to the Middle East! We are the stories and disciples of... the Jesus of _Suburbiaaaa_!'

He jumped on the armchair again, back to Mycroft, and wriggled his arse as he continued singing, Mycroft's eyes dropping to his lower half.

'Land of make believe, and that don't believe in me! Land of make believe, and I don't believe, and I don't _care_! Oo-oo, I don't care, woo-oo, I don't care, oo-oo, I don't care, oo-oo, AND I DON'T CARE!'

'What is the matter with you?' Mycroft asked as the song cut into _Dearly Beloved_. Greg just winked, still smiling manically, and bowed to Mycroft.

'Dearly beloved, are you _list-EH-ninngg_?' he sang, Mycroft shaking his head. 'I can't remember a word that you were say- _iing_.'

'You're an idiot.'

'Are we demented or am I _DEE_ -sturbed?' Greg sang. 'The space that's in-between insane and insecure- come on, Mycroft, have some fun with me,' Greg grinned. 'You're too wound up, just let go.'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and Greg pouted at him, voice softening as he sang the next party.

'Oh, therapy, can you please _fiill THHEE_ void?'

'Am I retarded or am I just overjoyed?' Mycroft gave in, Greg clapping and cheering. 'Nobody's perfect and I stand _AAH-cuused_...'

'... for lack of a better word, and that's my best excuse,' Greg cut in. 'See, it's fun.'

'Yes, fine, it is,' Mycroft said.

Greg bounced around to the soft, up-beat music, and Mycroft was just waiting for him to lose it when the next part started.

And sure enough, as soon as _Tales of Another Broken Home_ started, Greg jumped, head banging up and down as he played air-guitar. If Mycroft had seen anyone else doing this in his home he would have thrown them out, but for some reason Gregory doing it just seemed so normal and... _fun_. Mycroft never really lost control of himself, even when he dressed up and shagged whatever bloke that took his fancy. But he found that with Greg, he didn't mind losing control.

'To LIVE,' Greg shouted, 'and not to BREATHE!'

'Is to die,' Mycroft joined in, 'in tragedy.'

'To RUN,' Greg grinned, 'to run AWAY!'

'To find... what you believe,' Mycroft smiled.

'And _I_ ,' they both sang, 'leave be- _hiind_... this hurr-AH- _caane_ of FUCKIN' LIES!'

That was Greg shouting at the end and Mycroft couldn't help but laugh.

'I lost... my faith to this,' Greg sang.

'This town,' Mycroft joined in, 'that don't exist.'

'So I run... I run _awaaay_ ,' Greg beamed.

'To the light... of masochist,' Mycroft sang louder.

'And _I_...' they both sang, 'leave be- _hiind_... this hurr-AH- _caane_ of FUCKIN' LIES!'

Okay, so Mycroft definitely joined in the screaming of "fuckin' lies" that time.

'And _I_... walked this _liine_ ,' Greg said.

'A million AND one fucking times,' Mycroft grinned.

'BUT NOT THIS TIME!' they both shouted, and Greg started jumping up and down, faster and faster, twisting his body like he was at a rock concert. Mycroft couldn't bring himself to do it and Greg pouted as the song slowed down for the last verse.

Greg closed the gap between them and wound his arms around Mycroft's neck, the younger boy swallowing at the sudden butterflies that were fluttering in his stomach.

'I don't feel any shame, I won't apologise,' Greg sang softly, his voice very much like Billie Joe Armstrong's and making Mycroft's stomach flip. 'When there ain't nowhere you can _goo_ ,' Greg sang softly, pressing a very chaste kiss to Mycroft's lips. 'Running away from pain when you've been victimised,' Greg breathed over Mycroft's lips, and Mycroft definitely shivered.

'Tales from another broken... HOOOOMEEEE!' Greg was shouting suddenly and jumping around again, leaving Mycroft stunned and blinking. 'You're leavin'! You're leavin'! You're leavin'.... AH, YOU'RE LEAVIN' HOOMEE!'

And then the song ended with Greg jumping from the floor, to the armchair, and off again, hitting the carpet on his knees and shouting, 'BAM!'

'You are _absolutely_ insane,' Mycroft shook his head as _Holiday_ started playing on the CD player. He walked across to it and turned it down slightly.

Greg grinned boyishly, breath coming in large gulps. 'Ah, well, that's just me.'

Mycroft snorted.

'Haven't you ever been to a Green Day concert?' Greg asked. When Mycroft shook his head, Greg's mouth dropped open.

'What?'

'Mycroft Holmes, for _shame_ ,' Greg shook his head. 'They toured in 2004, how could you not have gone?'

'Could you imagine my mother's face if I asked to go to a Green Day concert?' Mycroft queried.

'Well you shoulda gone, it was fucking awesome,' Greg said. 'Seriously, what I'd do to Billie Joe Armstrong.'

'He's married.'

'And bisexual,' Greg grinned, winking at the taller boy.

Mycroft tutted.

'Come on, Mikey, you totally had fun just then,' Greg grinned. 'Don't you ever just jump around your room listening to music? It's the best way to let off steam and get all your fucking shitty feelings out of your body.'

'I can't say that I ever have,' Mycroft said. 'But feel free to do it as often as you wish.'

Greg grinned lasciviously. 'You just liked staring at my arse.'

'Mm, that was a very big part of it,' Mycroft nodded.

'I beg to dream and differ, from the hollow lies,' Greg was suddenly singing along to _Holiday_ , 'this is the dawning of the rest of our _liiives_... on holi- _daaaaaaaaaaaaaaay_!'

Mycroft chuckled as Greg started playing air-guitar again. 'As fun as it is to watch you make a fool of yourself,' he said, Greg poking his tongue out, 'it's time to go.'

'Where are we going?' Greg asked.

'Out.'

'Where?'

'Out, I said.'

'And where, I asked,' Greg said, smirking when Mycroft frowned at him.

'It's a surprise, you'll see soon enough.'

'Right, right,' Greg nodded. 'So, we have to leave _right_ now?'

'Yes,' Mycroft said.

'Mm... m'kay... Mycroft, it's only midday.'

'Exactly,' Mycroft said.

'Um... what?' Mycroft rolled his eyes and Greg said, 'We've got _all_ day, Mikey. My mum'll be asleep all day after working the night shift, and your dad's not here. Your mum...' he frowned, 'um, where _is_ your mum?'

'Some charity event, getting her hair and nails done, or gossiping with other mums,' Mycroft shrugged.

'Right, so... what's the rush?' Greg asked. 'Exactly,' he said when Mycroft shrugged. 'There ain't a rush.'

' _Isn't_ not _ain't_ ,' Mycroft corrected.

Greg rolled his eyes and bowed from the waist down. 'My humblest apologies, dear Mr Holmes.' Mycroft chuckled. 'Seriously, we have to leave _right this second_?'

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded.

Greg grinned and Mycroft raised an eyebrow, the older boy sliding towards him and wrapping his arms around Mycroft's back. Suddenly Mycroft was spun around and pushed, Greg shoving and tripping him until he fell onto the bean bag.

'Gregory-'

Mycroft cut himself off when Greg straddled his lap, grinding himself against Mycroft's crotch and making all intelligent thought leave his mind.

'Now see, I was thinking we could make out for a bit first,' Greg said, licking his lips.

'We can... m-make out where we're... g-going,' Mycroft stuttered, hands fumbling until they rested on Greg's hips.

'That's another thing, you're always in control,' Greg said. 'Don't get me wrong, I do love getting jumped at a party by shag-machine Mikey.' Mycroft snorted. 'But that little surprise has passed, Mycroft Holmes, and now Gregory Lestrade is back.'

'Oh really?'

Greg grinned. 'Oh yes.' He crushed his lips against Mycroft's, taking the younger boy by surprise.

Mycroft groaned as Greg's hands rubbed up and down his chest before one cupped his cheek, keeping him in place so Greg could snog him. No one ever dominated Mycroft, _ever_. They were all too scared to take control with him, or they really, _really_ liked Mycroft owning them.

But not Greg.

No, not Gregory.

Mycroft let himself go, enjoying the way Greg's tongue darted into his mouth, stroking over his own carefully but forcefully, the tip flicking against Mycroft's piercing and making both boys shiver in pleasure.

Greg tilted his head and Mycroft went with it, making sure their lips never parted for more than two seconds. Greg's right hand was still stroking up and down his chest, fingers seeming to burn through Mycroft's shirt and make his entire body heat up. His other hand was warm and strong on Mycroft's face, fingers digging in every time Mycroft stuck his tongue further into his mouth.

Mycroft's own hands had fumbled a bit at first, but that changed now that he was somewhere familiar and comfortable. His left arm wrapped around Greg's waist, keeping Greg against him, while his right stroked up Greg's side, his arm, before trailing along his neck and up to his face. He brushed his fingers through Greg's messy brown hair, nails scratching against his scalp and making Greg shiver deliciously.

Suddenly Greg pulled back and Mycroft grunted in annoyance. Greg chuckled and grabbed at the red tie he'd pulled on earlier that morning, sliding the material off and throwing it over his back. Mycroft leaned up to help Greg get his shirt off, ripping the bottom two buttons free.

'I'm telling my mum you did that,' Greg said as Mycroft kissed at his neck.

'Mm, yes, just tell her you were snogging Mycroft Holmes, she'll believe that.'

'You're a cunt.'

'Fuck you, Gregory dear.'

'Suck my cock, Mycroft darling.'

'Been there, done that,' Mycroft smirked, Greg groaning at the memories.

'Anyway,' Greg said, swallowing thickly, 'Mum knows we're snogging.'

'Still doesn't mean you'll actually talk to her about it,' Mycroft countered.

Greg scowled and tore his shirt clear, wanting to get naked and against Mycroft _now_. But the action knocked him off balance and made him fall back. Mycroft grabbed onto him and was taken down too, the two falling to the carpet with a heavy _thud_.

Greg was on his back, arms pinned above his head by his button-up shirt, and Mycroft was straddling his lap. Greg's lips were swollen and red, and Mycroft knew his wouldn't be any better. He didn't care, though. Not when he had a gorgeous guy beneath him.

'Well, well, well, look at what we have here,' Mycroft smirked.

Greg rolled his eyes and tried to squirm free from his shirt.

'Looks like you're not on top anymore, hmm?'

'Yeah, yeah; just snog me, you prat,' Greg said, finally getting himself free. He reached up, hand wrapping around Mycroft's neck, and tugged Mycroft down.

Their teeth clacked together, and there was a bit of shuffling and shifting before they got comfortable. Greg wrapped his legs around Mycroft's waist, pulling him further in until they were flush against each other.

A moan escaped Mycroft's lips and was swallowed by Gregory's own, the two melded once more as their tongues were sucked into each other's mouths, saliva being swapped and groans given by both.

They were rutting hard against each other, and well on the way to some serious frottage, when the secret door to their right thumped open. Mycroft ripped himself away from Greg's lips, the older boy sitting up too, legs falling back to the floor.

Sherlock Holmes jumped into the room and paused when he saw them, and Greg spotted John Watson standing in the doorway looking nervous.

A grin tugged at Sherlock's lips as Mycroft stood, Greg remaining on the floor half-naked. 'What do you want?' Mycroft demanded.

'I need some cigarettes, I spent all my allowance,' Sherlock said, eyes flicking from Mycroft to Greg.

'Sherlock, you're thirteen-'

'And you started smoking when you were twelve,' Sherlock cut in. 'Don't give me the "you're too young" bullshit, My.'

'What kind of brother would I be if I supported your smoking habit?' Mycroft demanded.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'What kind of brother would _I_ be if I didn't tell Mummy and Daddy that you spend your nights shagging whatever bloke you can get your hands on?' He looked pointedly at Greg, who stuck his tongue out and stood.

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his eyes as he went to the small set of drawers his CD player was sitting atop. He pulled open the top drawer and ripped a packet from the carton of cigarettes, slamming the drawer shut and throwing the cigarettes at Sherlock.

Sherlock caught them and Mycroft said, 'Now fuck off, Lockie, I'm busy.'

'With Lestrade?' Sherlock questioned. 'He's a bigger slut than you, you know.'

'Just means I can keep up,' Greg said.

Sherlock smirked at him.

'Fuck off, Sherlock, _now_ ,' Mycroft ordered.

'I love you too, Mycroft,' Sherlock said, blowing his brother a kiss before turning and leaving, dragging John Watson after him.

'This is why I'm glad to be an only child,' Greg said, stretching and scratching at his chest.

Mycroft grunted. 'He's fine when he's not blowing shit up and interrupting me.'

Greg smiled and closed the distance between them, pulling Mycroft in for a quick snog. 'Calm down, Mikey, alright? You're not the first sibling to get interrupted.'

'Sherlock's the first person who discovered the real me,' Mycroft admitted. 'Followed quickly by John Watson, and then Benjamin Masters and his friends.'

'Mm, well none of them will tell, right?' Greg said. 'You scare the fuck out of BJ and his mates.' Mycroft chuckled. 'You supply Sherlock with cigarettes and probably alcohol, so he won't tell, and John doesn't look like the gossiping type. Dimmo's known for months and still hasn't said anything, and _I_ won't, 'cause then the snogging would stop.'

Mycroft smiled at him and Greg kissed him again, the two soon getting lost in each other. But before it could progress, there was a nervous knock on the door.

Mycroft cursed and pulled away, and Greg glared over Mycroft's shoulder. John Watson was standing in the doorway looking embarrassed.

'What?' Mycroft demanded.

'Sherlock needs a lighter,' John said.

'Fuck off, kid, we've got better things to do than cater to Sherlock,' Greg growled.

John glared at him. 'I'm not scared of you,' the thirteen-year-old said, folding his arms and standing his ground.

Greg grinned at John's behaviour and Mycroft opened his mouth, no doubt to shout some more, but was cut off by Greg kissing him. Greg pulled away and stepped around Mycroft, placing his hands on his hips as he walked towards John.

He watched the other teenager swallow nervously, but he didn't move a muscle. Greg found that he liked John Watson; even though the kid was four years younger than Greg, and a hell of a lot shorter, he still wasn't backing down.

But Greg knew how to fuck with people and stalked towards John like he was a piece of meat.

'You know, I see why Sherlock hangs around you,' Greg said, letting eyes lazily trail up and down John's body. 'You're quite the little cutie, aren't you?'

'I... I'm n-not gay,' John choked out.

'They never are,' Greg said, 'but when I get through with them they _beg_ for another round.' Mycroft snorted but Greg ignored him as he reached John, the younger boy's entire body tense. He leaned forward and breathed in deeply. 'Mm, I like the cute, silent ones,' Greg whispered. 'They're always so crazy in bed- or on the floor, against the wall, wherever I want to _fuck them_.'

John squeaked and Greg grinned.

'What do you say, Johnny?' Greg whispered, pressing his lips to John's ear. 'Ditch Sherlock and let me fuck you until you can't see straight.'

He licked John's ear and the boy practically shrieked before running, Greg laughing loudly as the teenager disappeared, nearly falling over himself in his haste to get away.

Greg was wiping tears from his eyes when Mycroft grabbed him, spinning him around and crushing their lips together. Greg blinked in surprise but kissed back, Mycroft’s mouth hungrily devouring his own and making Greg's knees threaten to buckle.

When they broke apart both were panting heavily, and Mycroft had a weird glint in his eyes.

Greg smirked suddenly. 'Jealous?'

'What? No, of course not,' Mycroft sniffed, looking away.

'You are,' Greg teased, pulling Mycroft back around. 'Don't be, Mycroft. You brought me here, I'm yours for the day. Besides, John's way too young for me. I don't wanna go to jail for fucking someone under sixteen.'

Mycroft looked at him.

'I'm serious. I'm a slut, not a pedophile,' Greg said. 'Besides, John's not my type; too short. I like 'em tall.' He looked Mycroft up and down to make his point.

'Really?' Mycroft asked.

Greg smiled at the insecurity the other boy was letting off and nodded. 'Yeah, I mean it.' He kissed Mycroft again softly before pulling back. 'Now, where were you taking me?' He turned to look at his shirt. 'And do you have a spare shirt to replace the one you destroyed?'

Mycroft chuckled and turned to grab a shirt from his clothing rack, Greg grinning behind him.


	40. Carpe Diem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Carpe Diem by Green Day
> 
>  **Author's Note:** Well here it is, chapter 40! Hope you guys like it :) And thank you so much for all your comments, I really appreciate them. Also, just thought I'd say that I've now been writing fanfictions for an entire year (I posted my first Sherlock story on October 19th 2011 over on FF.Net). One year, 69 stories. Hahaha, 69... yes, I have a dirty mind. Isn't that obvious?  
>  Anywho, enjoy.
> 
> {Dreamer}

They climbed back into Mycroft's Jag and headed out, Greg going through the CDs Mycroft had. He found another copy of _¡Uno!_ , as well as the next one, _¡Dos!_. _¡Tré!_ wouldn't be out till January next year. Deciding to listen from the beginning, Greg put _¡Uno!_ on.

'Didn't you just change that in my bedroom because you wanted to listen to _American Idiot_?' Mycroft said.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded as he slid the disk into the CD player.

'So you're putting it on now because...?'

''Cause I wanna listen to it,' Greg said. Mycroft sighed, and then rolled his eyes when Greg grinned at him.

'Did you know Green Day now has four members?' Mycroft said while Greg fiddled with the CD player.

'Duh,' Greg rolled his eyes. 'I love Green Day, 'course I know that. Jason White's been tourin' with Green Day since _Warning_ and was made an official member last September.'

'I suppose it gives Billie Joe more freedom to perform on stage,' Mycroft mused.

Greg snorted. 'You haven't seen Green Day live, right?' Mycroft shook his head. 'Well Billie Joe is _the_ picture of a front man; he talks to the crowd, gets 'em jazzed up, and runs around like a lunatic. Fuckin' awesome,' Greg grinned.

'He never really plays every guitar part when performing live anyway, so why not make Jason White, the guy who does it, a member?' Greg continued. 'Billie Joe always plays _Good Riddance_ , I know that much. But he prefers to get the audience involved than strictly play each and every guitar part, even though he writes it.'

'Are you stalking Green Day?' Mycroft asked.

'Maybe,' Greg chuckled. 'I keep up to date with all their stuff on Facebook, their website, and sometimes Tumblr. Good fun chatting to other people who are obsessed with Green Day.'

'We'll have to go when they tour,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah, that'd be awesome,' Greg nodded. 'They're touring this year for _¡Uno! ¡Dos! ¡Tré!_. We should totally go.'

Mycroft smiled at the weird energy Greg seemed to get just from the _thought_ of seeing his favourite band live. He loved Green Day too and wondered if they were really as good live as Greg claimed they were.

Greg finally got the CD player working and skipped through the first two songs, stating that he wanted to listen to one in particular. He finally stopped on track 3 and waited.

Mycroft recognised _Carpe Diem_ ; it was one of his favourite songs on _¡Uno!_. Greg bopped his head along to the song, humming under his breath, and began singing out loud when the chorus started.

'Carpe Diem, a battle cry! Are we all too young to die?'

'Ask a reason and no reply,' Mycroft couldn't help but join in.

'Are we all too young to die?' Greg grinned. 'Hey, what the hell does _Carpe Diem_ mean, anyway?' he asked over the top of the rest of the chorus.

' _Seize the Day_ ,' Mycroft answered.

'What?'

'It literally translates to _Seize the Day_ ,' Mycroft said. 

Greg continued to stare at him.

' _Horace_ ,' Mycroft said before realising Greg still had no idea what he was talking about. He sighed. 'It comes from a longer phrase. Basically it means that life is too short, we're all mortal, and we should enjoy what we have while we can because you can't change the fact that life is the way it is; _whatever will be, will be; Seize the Day_ ; etcetera. You should seize the day while you have the chance and enjoy life.'

'Oh,' Greg said. 'M'kay.' Mycroft chuckled. 'You're really smart, ya know?'

'Yes, I do know,' Mycroft said. 'Though you can Google the phrase and find all that out.'

'Nah, heaps cooler to hear it from you,' Greg grinned. 'And sexier.' He winked, making Mycroft snort.

'CARPE DIEM, A BATTLE CRY!' Greg shouted. 'ARE WE ALL TOO YOUNG TO DIE?'

Mycroft shook his head as Greg proceeded to scream the rest of the song and bounce around, making Mycroft want to hit him and snog him at the same time. Finally the song ended and Mycroft breathed a sigh of relief.

And then of course _Kill The DJ_ started and Greg was screaming again.

{oOo}

'So where are we going?' Greg asked after twenty minutes of driving.

'To the Underpass,' Mycroft answered.

'What?'

'The Underpass,' Mycroft repeated.

'Did you know saying the same thing twice doesn't make it any less confusing?' Greg asked. Mycroft rolled his eyes and Greg said, 'What's the Underpass?'

'It's an underpass,' Mycroft said.

'Mycroft-'

'It's a section of dirt beneath Samson Bridge,' Mycroft cut in, making Greg go quiet. 'It's a large area with concrete pillars, dirt, and graffiti. It's where the kids from St Mary's and Artemis Catholic School hang out when they skip school, or when they have nothing to do on weekends.'

'Oh,' Greg said.

'There's also a long tunnel- the actual underpass- that cuts between the concrete to takes you to Artemis' or the football field opposite it.'

'Yeah, I know the area,' Greg nodded. 'I've been to a few parties out that way, and I've gone with Dimmo to drop Molly home. She lives not far from Artemis Catholic School.'

'Well that's where we're going,' Mycroft told him. 'Everyone just calls it the Underpass.'

'You go there often?'

Mycroft shrugged as he turned right, taking a narrow tar road that passed an up-scale looking area. 'Sometimes,' he said, 'when I need to get away.'

'Cool,' Greg said, looking back out the window.

{oOo}

Greg realised they'd reached their destination when Mycroft pulled up outside a small playground. To their right were typical suburban houses; to their left was a large grassy paddock bordered by a low wooden fence.

Mycroft turned the car off and he and Greg climbed out, Mycroft locking the car and pocketing his keys. 'Come on,' he said.

Greg followed him across the road and they both climbed over the low wooden fence, hitting the grass and walking across it. Greg could see the bridge up ahead, a big concrete thing with cars zipping back and forth.

They headed straight for the mesh-wire fence and Greg raised an eyebrow when Mycroft crouched down, drawing up a corner and pulling it back. He gestured for Greg to duck through and he followed after, putting the wire back in its place. The two walked through the trees in silence until suddenly they were assaulted by sunlight.

Greg blinked before his eyes widened, mouth falling open slightly. Before them was a large area that was about eight or nine feet lower than where Greg was standing, the once white concrete mostly covered in dirt and clumps of grass. The bridge was above them, built atop concrete and dirt, with the road twisting away from them on both sides and blocked off by concrete walls.

The actual underpass was fairly small; the bridge above was four lanes wide and about thirty metres long. But the area around it was much longer and the concrete was covered in dirt, with mesh-wire fences running along low concrete walls. There were abandoned trolleys, rubbish, and all sorts of crap everywhere, and Greg could see a burnt-out car sitting against the bridge to the right.

Mycroft walked down the concrete slope, Greg following, until the ground levelled out and they headed for the Underpass.

Everything was covered in graffiti; brightly coloured paint with tags like "P!nk", "H.O.U.N.D.S", and "MorMor". There were various teenagers loitering about dressed in black, a lot of the guys and girls with dreadlocks, bleached hair, and bottles of alcohol clutched in their hands.

A few sofas had been stuck beneath the bridge, as well as armchairs, plastic chairs, and trolleys covered in cardboard and dirty blankets. A fire was burning in a large metal drum to the left and music was blasting from various phones, iPods, and CD players that ran on batteries.

As he and Mycroft got closer, Greg realised it was a lot cleaner under the bridge; though there was still dirt and rubbish everywhere, the concrete was visible, and people had made an effort to chuck the garbage in various corners.

A few people recognised Mycroft and came over to say a quick hello, but Mycroft didn't introduce Greg to anyone. Instead they went straight to the two large red sofas in the middle of the Underpass, the guy sitting there- he looked to be about fifteen and had bright blue hair- glancing up at them.

'Mikey, long time no see,' the guy said in a gravelly voice. 'Where you been, man?' He stood up and bumped fists with Mycroft, the silver bracelets around his wrists clinking together.

'Been busy,' Mycroft shrugged. The guy looked at Greg and Mycroft said, 'This is Greg; Greg, Billie.'

'Hey, man,' Billie said, giving Greg a nod.

'Hi,' Greg replied.

'So, what you want?' Billie asked. 'Beer? Bourbon? Or some E, coke, what?'

Greg's eyes widened slightly and Mycroft said, 'I don't do that shit, you know that.'

Bille shrugged. 'Gotta find customers, bro.'

'Just two beers, thanks,' Mycroft said while reaching into his pocket. Greg took the beers from the kid while Mycroft gave him ten pounds.

'Don't drink and drive,' Billie grinned, waggling a finger at them.

'Fuck off,' Mycroft replied before turning and heading for the fire. Billie chuckled and Greg gave him a brief smile before running after Mycroft.

'E?' he asked.

Mycroft snorted. 'I think Billie's life plan is to end up in juvi before he reaches sixteen.'

'Right,' Greg chuckled.

'He's a good guy, just a little... erm, odd,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah, I've met his type,' Greg said as he popped the cap on his beer. 'Don't give two fucks about anything.'

'His mother's a heroin addict, his dad left before he could walk,' Mycroft said. 'I don't blame him, really.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, taking a swig of beer. He realised how different his life would be if Maggie hadn't been such a great mum. No doubt Greg would be a drug addict, dead, or in prison.

As it was, he was just trying to pluck up the courage to ask the boy he liked to be his boyfriend.

Greg had a plan... sort of. He would just tell Mycroft he liked him and ask the taller teenager to be his boyfriend. Simple, right? Except maybe Mycroft would say no; maybe Mycroft hadn't meant it; maybe Mycroft would think Greg was kidding; maybe Mycroft would realise Greg wasn't worth his time; maybe-

'Greg?'

Greg blinked rapidly, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He realised Mycroft was standing before him looking concerned, one eyebrow raised, blue eyes locked onto Greg.

'Um... sorry,' Greg said.

'Are you okay?' Mycroft asked.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, 'sorry, just, er... lost in thought.'

'Okay...' Mycroft said slowly, but thankfully he didn't push the matter. Instead he grabbed Greg's hand and tugged him over to a group of teenagers in the corner.

'Well, well, well; Sally Donovan, as I live and breathe,' Greg grinned when he recognised the dark-skinned girl leaning against the wall.

'Hey, Lestrade,' Sally smiled. She pushed off the wall and leaned over, kissing Greg's cheek. 'What are you doin' here?'

'Mikey brought me,' Greg said. 'You?'

'Anthea,' Sally beamed.

Greg realised the girl standing beside Sally- wearing a red plaid skirt and tight black button-up shirt- was Anthea Lander. 'Hello there.'

'Hello,' Anthea replied, tipping her bottle of beer. She had her arm around Sally's waist, the two standing close together. Beside Anthea was Justin and Annette- the couple Greg usually saw at Greyson Lake when he went there with Mycroft- as well as a few guys and girls he'd seen around at parties.

There was a tall guy standing just off to the right staring at Greg. He had platinum blonde hair, pale skin, and dark green eyes. He was skinnier than Mycroft and wearing bright green jeans, a grey hoodie, and black boots. He gave Greg a smile and Greg returned it- just being polite- but it made the guy tip his beer and look Greg up and down.

Deciding to ignore the guy, Greg turned back to the group of people Mycroft was chatting to. They seemed like a friendly bunch, though one or two had dark bags under their eyes and kept sniffing or rubbing their arms. Greg realised there was a good chance a fair few of them were drug addicts. But as long as they didn't fuck with him or Mycroft, he'd leave them alone.

Mycroft's arm found its way around Greg's waist a few minutes later and both Sally and Anthea gave him wide grins, Greg blushing and ignoring them. Now wasn't the time to lose it; he still had to figure out how to ask Mycroft out.

{oOo}

'Are you having fun?' Mycroft asked about an hour later.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, sipping his third beer. 'It's nice and relaxing, a chance to just hang out without various adults calling the cops.'

'There are raids every now and then,' Mycroft said. 'People in the neighbourhood or driving past see us and call the police. But mostly we're left alone.'

'It's a cool spot,' Greg admitted. 'Thanks for showing me.'

'Not a problem,' Mycroft chuckled. He pressed a chaste kiss to Greg's lips and said, 'I'm going to get another beer.'

Greg nodded and watched him go, eyes roaming up and down Mycroft's body. _God, can the guy get any hotter?_ he mused.

'Hi.'

Greg jumped and turned, his hand going straight to his chest. Standing next to him- and leaning very suggestively against the concrete wall- was the blonde who'd been eyeing Greg all afternoon.

'Fuck, give a guy a heart attack,' Greg said.

The guy chuckled. 'Sorry about that.' His eyes rolled lazily over Greg's body and Greg had to fight the urge to squirm. 'I haven't seen you around before.'

'Yeah, first time here,' Greg said. 'My mate, Mikey, brought me.'

'Right,' the guy nodded, glancing past Greg to see Mycroft talking to Billie, Justin and Annette. 'I'm Mitchell.'

'Greg,' Greg said. Mitchell held a hand out and Greg bit back a sigh as he shook it. The guy's fingers practically stroked his hand and Greg gritted his teeth. While he didn't mind being hit on, or even leered at, Greg didn't want that anymore.

He wanted to be with Mycroft; he wanted _Mycroft_ to be the only guy allowed to look at him like that. So he really wasn't in the mood for Mitchell's roaming eyes and fingers.

'You're gorgeous, ya know?' Mitchell said after he let Greg's hand go.

 _God, not bloody subtle,_ Greg thought. 'Um... thank you?' he tried.

'You busy?' Mitchell asked, sipping his beer. 'There's plenty of spots around here we could be alone.'

'Um... I'm flattered, really,' Greg said. 'But I'm not interested.'

'Why?' Mitchell asked. 'You straight?'

'No, I'm gay,' Greg said.

'Got a boyfriend?''

'Um...' Greg murmured, thinking about Mycroft. 'N-Not really,' he finally said. _Not yet,_ he thought.

'So what's the problem?' Mitchell asked.

'I'm flattered, really,' Greg repeated. _But you aren't Mycroft._

'Come on, just a kiss,' Mitchell said, smiling broadly. 'If ya feel nothin', well... no harm done.'

'Thanks, really, but I'm interested in someone.'

'So? He isn't here, is he?' Mitchell asked. He reached out and placed a hand on Greg's arm, stroking softly. 'The guy you fancy?'

Greg bit his lip. 'Actually-' Before he could finish his sentence, a strong tug on his shirt had him stumbling back. Greg tried to stand straight but someone was now dragging him away by the arm.

Scrambling to remain on his feet, Greg didn't realise it was Mycroft until they walked into the sun; the bright light bounced off Mycroft, making his hair seem redder than it usually was.

'Mycroft, what the hell?' he demanded. 'Lemme go, I'm gonna fall.'

Mycroft finally stopped by the mesh-wire fence, letting go of Greg and folding his arms.

'What's wrong?' Greg asked.

'What the hell were you doing?' Mycroft demanded.

Greg blinked. 'What?'

'What the hell were you doing?' Mycroft repeated. 'With the blonde?'

'Oh, you mean Mitchell?' Greg asked. Mycroft's eyes narrowed at the name. 'Just talking.'

'Talking?' Mycroft practically snarled. 'It looked like more than _talking_.'

'We were just talking,' Greg shrugged.

'Then why was he leering at you?' Mycroft asked. 'And standing so close to you? And _touching_ you?'

He was practically shouting at the end and it took Greg longer than necessary to realise what was going on.

'Are you jealous?' he asked.

Mycroft huffed but his cheeks were pink, eyes ablaze with anger.

'You're jealous,' Greg grinned.

'I am not!' Mycroft snarled.

'Mycroft, the dude was flirting with me,' Greg shrugged. 'I wasn't flirting with him.' Mycroft's glare darkened. 'Honest,' Greg continued. 'He asked if I was interested, I said no.'

'Sure you did,' Mycroft growled.

Greg scowled. 'What, you don't believe me?'

'Well you didn't look like you were in any hurry to get away.'

'Jesus Christ, Mycroft,' Greg snapped. 'I was just being nice. I didn't think you'd appreciate me shouting and smacking your mates'

'They're not my mates!' Mycroft shouted.

'Whatever!' Greg said, throwing his hands up. 'My point is I didn't wanna be rude, alright?'

'So you just flirted with him?' the genius demanded.

'If you'd just waited five fucking seconds before dragging me off, you woulda seen that the guy was hitting on me but I wasn't flirting back!' Greg shouted angrily. 'For fuck's sake, Mycroft, I'm here with _you_!'

'So?' Mycroft snapped. 'We're not boyfriends, what's stopping you from fucking that guy?'

Greg scowled and pushed Mycroft against the chain-link fence. Mycroft glared at him as Greg invaded his personal-space, fingers clinging to the fence either side of him.

'Nothing's stopping me,' Greg said, 'nothing except you.'

Mycroft paused. 'What?'

'Fucking hell, Mycroft, I told you earlier,' Greg said. 'If you take me somewhere, I'm yours, alright? I might sleep around but I don't fuck over the people I'm with. I'm not gonna dump you for some other bloke, that's just not the way I work. If I go to a party alone, I can fuck who I want. If I take someone to a party, even if we're not together, I don't just leave them for someone else. I'm theirs for the night, got that?'

Mycroft looked up at him nervously and Greg softened his voice.

'Mycroft, I know we're not together- well, not boyfriends or anything,' he said. 'But you brought me here, I'm here with _you_ , alright? I'm not the type of bloke to drop a date just 'cause some other guy decides to hit on me, that's not the way I work.'

Mycroft wet his lips and tugged on the bottom one nervously. 'Really?'

'You don't take people anywhere, do you?' Greg asked.

Mycroft shook his head. 'I don't have... _dates_ , or anyone I see after more than a few hours. I don't know how to... I thought...'

Greg chuckled and pushed himself against Mycroft before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss against his lips. When he drew back he looked nervous and Mycroft frowned.

'What? What is it?'

Greg sighed and rubbed his face, drawing back slightly. 'Um... look, there's no easy way to say this.'

Mycroft's frowned deepened.

'I should... seize the day, right?' Greg chuckled, thinking about earlier in the car. ' _Carpe Diem_ and all that rubbish.'

'What?'

'I... um...' Greg squeezed his eyes shut and decided to just say it. 'I like you.' There was no answer and Greg peeled one eye open, seeing that Mycroft was still frowning. 'Myc?'

'What?'

'I... I like you,' Greg admitted. 'I.... you know, fancy you.'

Mycroft continued to stare.

'Um... I guess I'm saying that... well, I want this-' he gestured between them, 'to be permanent. I want to... you know, be your boyfriend.'

Mycroft's eyes darkened and he pushed Greg away violently.

'Mycroft-'

'Is this some sort of joke to you?' Mycroft demanded.

'What?'

'You figured it out, didn't you?' Mycroft growled. 'Or someone told you- was it Sherlock?'

'What are you talking about?'

'You found out I like you and now you're trying to mess with me!' Mycroft shouted. 'You just want a fucking shag, don't you?'

'Mycroft, no,' Greg said, stepping closer as Mycroft scowled. 'I'm being fucking serious here.'

'Don't give me that bullshit,' Mycroft snarled, turning away.

'No!' Greg shouted. He grabbed Mycroft roughly and slammed him back against the mesh fence, forcing Mycroft to face him. 'Look at me, alright?' he demanded, grabbing Mycroft by the chin so he couldn't look away. 'Do that fucking deducing thing you do- deduce that I fucking like you!'

Mycroft scowled but his blue eyes roamed over Greg's face, his body, before flicking up to his eyes. He stared at Greg hard and Greg stared right back, letting everything he felt for Mycroft wash through his body and mind.

After a few minutes Mycroft's eyes wavered, lips parting slightly. 'What?'

'I fancy you,' Greg repeated. 'Dimmock, Molly- hell, even my _mum_ knew that I liked you. I refused to believe it 'cause... I dunno, I'm a fucking idiot,' Greg said. 'But I _do_ like you, Mycroft, alright?'

Mycroft stared at him for a few more seconds before leaning forward, pressing his lips to Greg's. Greg blinked in surprise but quickly kissed back, the hand holding Mycroft's chin moving to cup his cheek. Mycroft licked into Greg's mouth and the older teen had to stifle a groan.

When they finally broke apart Greg stared.

'You like me?' Mycroft asked softly.

Greg smiled. 'Yeah, I do.'

'Oh... okay...'

They fell into silence, Mycroft blushing and staring down at Greg's chest while Greg smiled.

'So...' Greg finally said, the auburn-haired teen looking up at him. 'Was that a yes?'

Mycroft frowned. 'What?'

'Will you be my boyfriend?' Greg asked.

'But...' Mycroft murmured, 'you've never had one before.'

'Neither have you,' Greg pointed out. 'There's a first time for everything.' Mycroft looked worried and Greg drew back. 'Are you worried I'll cheat on you?'

'You have a reputation,' Mycroft said.

'So do you.'

'I know...'

'Mycroft, I slept around 'cause no one managed to keep my interest after one shag,' Greg said. ' _You_ caught my interest completely after one real conversation- we hadn't even kissed and I was wanking and thinking about you.'

'Really?' Mycroft asked.

Greg blushed and said, 'Erm... I didn't mean to say that.' Mycroft snorted. 'My point is, every other guy is a fucking prat compared to you, they're not a quarter as interesting or sexy as you are,' Greg said. 'So don't worry, I won't cheat on you, I don't do that.'

'Okay...'

'And you won't either, right?'

'Of course,' Mycroft nodded. 'Like you, no one has ever been able to...'

'Satisfy you?' Mycroft nodded again. 'Well when we _finally_ get around to fucking-' Mycroft chuckled, '- I'll show you just how fucking satisfying I am, Mikey.' Mycroft smiled stupidly. 'So that's a yes?' Greg asked.

Mycroft breathed in deeply and nodded. 'Yes,' he smiled, 'I'll be your boyfriend.'

Greg grinned and jumped forward, mashing his lips against Mycroft's and pushing him hard against the chain-link fence. Mycroft moaned loudly and wound his arms around Greg's back, pulling him further in and trying to crush the non-existent space between them.

Greg couldn't help but grin as they kissed; he'd finally pulled his head out. And now he and Mycroft were together; they were _boyfriends_.

And Greg couldn't have been happier.


	41. Dance Inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Dance Inside by The All-American Rejects

They were still kissing when Greg's phone rang, and both groaned in annoyance.

'You'd... better get... that...' Mycroft mumbled.

'Probably just... Dimmo,' Greg said, turning his head to kiss Mycroft better.

But Mycroft pulled back anyway and Greg whined. 'Answer your phone, Gregory.'

Greg sighed and pulled his mobile out, glancing at the caller ID. 'Hey, Mum,' he answered, the words making Mycroft smile at him.

' _Greg, I picked up a shift at the hospital, I won't be home till about nine or ten tomorrow morning_ ,' Maggie said.

'Alright,' Greg said.

' _I'll be leaving at six_ ,' Maggie continued, ' _and I'm gonna try and get some sleep until then, so did you want to make something when you get home? Or should I leave money?_ '

'I've got money, Mum, I'm fine,' Greg said. 'Um... I'll probably be home around six, so we might miss each other.'

' _Okay. Are you sure you don't need any money?_ '

'I'm fine, Mum, honest,' Greg said. He swatted Mycroft away when the red-head started kissing his neck, and Mycroft smirked. 'I'll order in some takeaway and get you somethin' so you can eat when you get home.'

' _Thank you, dear_.'

'Did you want me home earlier to make you anything?' Greg asked. 'You should eat before going to work.'

' _I'm fine, honey. I'll pick something up at the hospital. You be careful, okay, and make sure you eat_.'

'No worries, I will,' Greg nodded, again having to push Mycroft away. The younger teen pouted at him and Greg ran his free hand through Mycroft's hair, watching as the genius pushed into his touch. 'Don't work too hard.'

' _I won't_ ,' Maggie said. ' _Love you, Greg_.'

'Love you too,' Greg said before hanging up.

'Aww, you're _so_ sweet,' Mycroft smiled.

'Shut it,' Greg grunted. He hauled Mycroft in for another kiss and they didn't break apart until they were both panting.

'I meant it,' Mycroft said. 'You _are_ sweet.'

Greg smiled. ''Course I am. I'm your boyfriend.' Mycroft chuckled and Greg chewed on his lip. 'Um... what are you doing tonight?' 

'Tonight?' Mycroft echoed and Greg nodded. 'Nothing, why?'

'Well... my mum's gonna be at work and I'm all alone,' Greg said. 'You, um... wanna join me for dinner?'

Mycroft raised one eyebrow. 'Dinner, alone, in your house... _alone_?'

'Um... yeah.'

Mycroft smiled. 'Are you trying to get into my trousers, Mr Lestrade?'

'I've been tryin' to get into your trousers for _months_ ,' Greg groaned. Mycroft chuckled. 'But not tonight,' Greg added, making Mycroft raise an eyebrow. 'I mean, I'd love to get into your trousers,' Greg said, 'but I was thinking movies and dinner and just... you know, making out a bit.'

'Really?' Greg nodded. 'Hmm,' Mycroft hummed before leaning forward and pressing his lips softly to Greg's. 'Sounds lovely.'

'Yeah?'

'Absolutely.'

Greg beamed and linked his arm through Mycroft's. 'Come on, then. Show me around a bit more, maybe you can punch Mitchell for hitting on your boyfriend, then we'll grab some takeaway and head back to mine.'

'Yes, Gregory dear,' Mycroft smiled as Greg tugged him back towards the Underpass.

 

{oOo}

 

They ended up getting pizza; supreme for Maggie and half pepperoni/half vegetarian for Greg and Mycroft to share. Mycroft made himself comfortable on the sofa while Greg grabbed sodas from the fridge.

He put two plates and the cans of drink on the coffee table before Mycroft and asked, 'What do you wanna watch?'

'What do you have?' Mycroft asked.

Greg went to the TV cabinet and pulled the door open, glancing over the collection of DVDs he had. 'Um... I've mostly got TV shows,' he said. 'Doctor Who, Torchwood, Burn Notice, Family Guy, Gilmore Girls- those are Mum's- The Office, NCIS, That '70s Show-'

'NCIS,' Mycroft cut in.

'What season?' Greg asked. 'I've got all of the ones out; one to nine.'

'Hmm... season six,' Mycroft said.

Greg grabbed the case and pulled it open, deciding to skip the first disk- he didn't like when the team was split up. Instead he put in the second disk and grabbed the remote before joining Mycroft.

There were a few minutes of silence as they grabbed slices of pizza, opened their drinks, and let the DVD start. They got comfortable sitting side-by-side, arms and legs touching as they ate.

'Does this episode have the FBI agent?' Mycroft asked. 'Fornell?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. He'd watched each season of NCIS over and over again and could quote most of the characters as well as name half the episodes. 'The guy he's protecting's in Castle, he plays Esposito.'

'And another guy from Castle was in an earlier season,' Mycroft remembered. 'The actor who plays Ryan.'

'Singled Out, season four,' Greg said. When Mycroft raised an eyebrow, Greg said, 'I tend to re-watch TV shows over and over again when I get them on DVD. Even if I'm doing homework or surfing the 'net, I watch 'em in the background. Mum gets pissed off; says I'm wasting electricity.'

'Well you are,' Mycroft snickered.

Greg nudged him and took a bite of pizza, licking oil from his lips. 'I've watched series two of Doctor Who about twenty times all the way through, and Family Guy I've seen a million times.'

'I'm that way with books,' Mycroft said. 'If I love the story or writing, it doesn't matter how many times I've read them, it's always fun to re-read.'

'I did that with Harry Potter when I was younger,' Greg admitted. 'Read the third one thirty times when I first got it.'

'The third one's your favourite?' Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded. 'Third has always been my favourite. But I really like the second book- and movie- 'cause I have a _major_ crush on Lucius Malfoy. Oh, and the fifth one 'cause he's in the end of it.'

'You have a crush on a fictional character?'

'Hey, don't act like you never have,' Greg said. He waved his slice of pizza in Mycroft's direction, the younger boy smirking. 'Lucius Malfoy is all smart and dangerous and _hot_.'

'And the fact that Jason Isaacs is hot has nothing to do with that?'

' _And_ he's a fantastic actor,' Greg grinned.

'You just agreed with me.'

'And...?'

Mycroft snorted and shook his head. When Greg inclined an eyebrow, he sighed. 'Fine, fine, I may have had a crush on a fictitious person in the past.'

'Who?' Greg asked.

'John Chen Wu from _The Dark Heavens Trilogy_ ,' Mycroft said after a few minutes of thought. 'There are currently six books separated into two trilogies, written by Kylie Chan, an Australian author.'

'And you have a crush on this character?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded. 'He's one of the main characters and the love interest of the main character, Emma Donahoe. The way he's written is just...' He trailed off and blushed, Greg giggling. 'Well, I can't help it,' he muttered.

'S'okay,' Greg grinned. 'I totally had the hots for Harry Potter... though that was more after the third movie.'

'Daniel Radcliffe turns you on, hmm?' Mycroft smirked.

'Oh yeah,' Greg nodded, 'especially when his hair's all messy, and when he's got stubble; have you seen any photos of him with stubble? Hnn...'

Mycroft chuckled and shook his head. 'You're a celebrity slut.'

'Guilty,' Greg grinned.

They fell back into silence as they ate, finishing off a pizza as well as two cans of Coke each. They relaxed on the sofa together, Greg leaning against the armrest with Mycroft's back pressed to his chest. Greg's left hand stroked up and down Mycroft's arm while their right hands were linked, fingers weaved together and heads tilted as they watched the DVD.

The silence was only broken when Greg sighed.

'What?' Mycroft asked.

' _God_ I love Michael Weatherly,' Greg groaned. 'He's so bloody hot.'

Mycroft chuckled; so they were back to discussing the sexual appeal of various celebrities and characters.

'You realise he has a son our age, yes?' Mycroft said.

'So?' Greg huffed. 'Haven't you ever had a crush on an older celebrity?'

Mycroft tilted his head as he thought and Greg waited patiently. 'I suppose so, yes,' he finally said.

'Who?' Greg asked.

'Why does it matter?'

'Need to know the competition.'

Mycroft snorted. 'Yes, because David Tennant's available.'

'Ooh, David Tennant, so you fancy him?' Greg asked.

'He's a good-looking man, and an incredible actor,' Mycroft said.

'Well he doesn't have a kid our age,' Greg said. 'Who else?'

'Hmm... Robert Downey Jr, does he have children?' Mycroft asked.

'No idea,' Greg shrugged.

'Oh, Mark Harmon,' Mycroft said, pointing at the TV. 'I know for a fact he has two sons, one of whom is older than us.'

'Mark Harmon?' Greg blanched. 'The dude's like sixty.'

'And still handsome,' Mycroft smirked.

Greg poked his tongue out. 'Grave robber.'

'Isn't it cradle robber?' Mycroft queried. 'Or is it cradle snatcher?'

'Yeah, but you're goin' after him,' Greg pointed out. 'And you don't need his money, so can't call you a gold digger.'

'Yes, I only like him for his money,' Mycroft drawled.

'Would you sleep with him?' Greg asked.

'No,' Mycroft answered immediately with a head shake.

'What?'

'I wouldn't,' Mycroft shrugged.

'You're telling me,' Greg said, 'that if you had a shot- if you met Mark Harmon and he said, 'Hey, Mycroft, let's head to a hotel and fuck like wild monkeys'-' Mycroft rolled his eyes as Greg's words, '- you wouldn't sleep with him?'

'No,' Mycroft repeated.

'Why not?'

Mycroft smiled as he said, 'Because I'm in a committed relationship.'

Greg stared at him for a few seconds before smiling broadly. ' _Aww_ , you're so sweet!'

Mycroft rolled his eyes again.

'Why _do_ you like him?'

'He's handsome,' Mycroft shrugged. 'Blue eyes, nice features, sturdy.'

'All features I don't have,' Greg pouted, folding his arms.

'Gregory,' Mycroft sighed. Greg tilted his head away, lips pushed out, and huffed dramatically. 'Gregory, I love your eyes,' Mycroft continued, shifting closer to his partner. 'They're dark and warm, like chocolate.'

Greg was silent before murmuring, 'Go on...'

Mycroft smiled as he said, 'Your hair is adorable; brown, wild, I love running my fingers through it.' He did just that, his fingers pushing through the soft strands.

'Mm?' Greg prodded.

'You've got an amazing smile,' Mycroft admitted. 'It's just... charming, adorable, sexy.'

'Yeah?' Greg asked.

'Oh yes,' Mycroft nodded, a smile on his lips. 'I love how tanned your skin is, despite us living in England; it's always so smooth and warm.'

His fingers ghosted down Greg's cheek and neck, the brunette shuddering as Mycroft continued down his shirt, playing with the hem. 'You're slim yet sturdy, strong... your body is absolutely mouth-watering.'

Greg swallowed thickly. 'Yours is too,' he whispered huskily.

'Is it?' Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded. 'All slim, every move you make is just... flawless, precise.'

Mycroft smiled.

'I love your hair and eyes; my favourite features,' Greg admitted. Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'I love how blue your eyes can be,' Greg grinned, 'but when you're upset or angry they're kinda stormy-blue. And black when you're horny.'

Mycroft couldn't help but chuckle as he continued to play with the edge of Greg's shirt.

'But your hair, God,' Greg groaned, eyes darting up. 'It looks brown when you're inside, but definitely has a red tinge. And when the sun hits it, it glows.'

'Does it?'

Greg nodded again. 'I love it,' he said as he reached up to touch, running his fingers through the baby-soft strands.

Mycroft tugged Greg forward by the shirt and captured his lips in a soft, sweet kiss that made Greg groan softly. God, he'd never tire of kissing Mycroft; of feeling the genius' lips pressed against his own, their tongues weaving together as they both explored and tasted each other's mouth.

Greg's fingers quickly turned from soft and gentle to hard and painful; he twisted his digits through Mycroft's hair and pulled him closer, the two soon opening up, their tongues duelling for dominance.

As usual Mycroft came out victorious and Greg gladly surrendered as he was pushed down onto his back. Mycroft shifted until he was kneeling between Greg's legs, and Greg wrapped them around his waist to draw him closer.

Their bodies pressed together as they kissed roughly. Mycroft threaded his left fingers through Greg's hair while his right hand dragged up and down Greg's shirt, fingers twisting in the soft fabric and scratching at the skin beneath.

Greg grunted and moaned, body writhing as he reacted to Mycroft's actions. He had his arms hooked around Mycroft's neck and was pushing his hips up, crotch grinding against Mycroft's own so their quickly hardening cocks rubbed together.

The food, drinks, and episode of NCIS blaring across the TV all went ignored as Greg and Mycroft sucked on each other's lips and tongues, their hips thrusting and rolling together as each tried to get more friction, more pleasure, just _more_.

Mycroft was the first to move, breaking away from Greg's lips, pressing his own to the brunette's chin, jaw, ear and neck. He moved down at a steady pace and felt Greg's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed thickly.

'God, Mycroft,' Greg whimpered. He threaded his fingers through Mycroft's hair and his left hand stayed there, his right cupping the back of Mycroft's neck and squeezing.

'What do you want?' Mycroft mumbled against his skin. His own hands were busy; the left stroked Greg's thigh, the right ducked up Greg's shirt to touch and scratch at over-heated flesh.

'You,' Greg moaned.

'What do you want _specifically_?' Mycroft asked.

'Fuck, just fucking t-touch me,' Greg ordered. 'Please!'

How was it possible to be this hard- this turned on- with his clothes on? Greg didn't know how Mycroft did it; just couldn't fucking understand how Mycroft could make him this _aroused_ with a few simple kisses and touches. It had to be some super-power; the ability to turn guys on in six seconds flat.

Mycroft moved down again and Greg felt the red-head's lips press firmly against his shirt, getting closer and closer to his nipple. 'Where- would- you- like- me- to- touch- you?' Mycroft questioned, each word punctured by a hard, wet kiss that left Greg's shirt stained dark with saliva.

'A-Anywhere,' Greg begged. 'My cock... m-my arse... _please_.'

God, he was such a fucking beggar. Greg had never begged before; with Mycroft it was all he did.

And Mycroft seemed to like that quite a lot if the small smirk on his slightly swollen lips was anything to go by. Finally he tugged Greg's shirt up and brushed his mouth along the brunette's skin, Greg arching as his nipple hardened. Mycroft's lips sucked around the small, pink nub, his left hand coming up to pinch and roll the other one.

' _Fuuuck_ ,' Greg moaned, head twisting from side to side. He opened his eyes and blinked at Mycroft, pupils blown, even as he thrust his crotch up again, rubbing his clothed erection against the genius' chest.

'Such a beggar,' Mycroft hummed.

'Such a tease,' Greg retorted.

'Mm,' Mycroft murmured before he moved down again. His lips kissed a trail of fire down to Greg's abdomen, tongue drawing circles around his belly button. Greg whined when Mycroft's fingers brushed the bulge in his jeans, and he thrust up yet again, begging for attention.

Mycroft took pity on his boyfriend... and paused when he remembered that yes, Gregory Lestrade was _actually_ his boyfriend!

'Mycroft?' Greg questioned when the other teenager was still for too long.

'Sorry,' Mycroft said and shook his head. 'I was just thinking.'

'About...?' Greg prodded.

'Just... us,' Mycroft admitted. He shifted between Greg's legs so his head was hovering over the older boy's crotch. Both hands came up to grip Greg's hips and his thumbs drew circles on Greg's skin. 'About the fact that we're actually dating.'

Greg smiled warmly. 'Yeah,' he said. 'I'm an idiot for takin' so long. Shoulda asked you out when you first kissed me.'

'I'm not sure I would have accepted,' Mycroft admitted. 'I fancied you, but I didn't really know you. And you didn't know me.'

'Yeah,' Greg agreed. 'But we could've avoided a lot of shit.'

'We're together now,' Mycroft shrugged.

'And that's what's important,' Greg smiled. 'But not as fucking important as your pretty lips wrapped around my prick.'

Mycroft chuckled and grabbed Greg's jeans, thankful the other teen hadn't put a belt on. His nimble fingers quickly popped the button and drew the zip down, and Greg wiggled a bit to help Mycroft draw the denim down far enough.

Mycroft pressed quick kisses to the boxer-clad flesh, and felt the organ twitch beneath his lips. Greg let out another soft moan and his hips inched off the sofa. 'M-Mycroft...'

'Yes, yes, I heard you,' Mycroft hummed. He popped the button of Greg's boxers but at the last second decided a blow job wouldn't cut it.

He ripped them down instead and shimmied back off the sofa, taking Greg's jeans and boxers with him. His socks followed and Mycroft looked down at his handy-work; Greg Lestrade, his _boyfriend_ , lying half-naked on the pale-grey cushions.

'Beautiful,' he commented before he dropped Greg's clothes and got back between his legs. He kissed his way up Greg's left leg, pausing to lick and suckle at the older teenager's thighs.

'Oh fuck, Mikey,' Greg moaned. 'Fuck, you're too good at this.'

'I aim to please,' Mycroft said.

'Guh, I aim to make a dick of myself,' Greg grunted. He was alternating between thrusting his head back when Mycroft found one of his hot spots, and staring down at his partner with lust-filled eyes. And all the time Mycroft kissed, licked, teased and nipped until Greg was almost flailing off the sofa.

Finally Mycroft leaned up and nuzzled Greg's crotch, burying his face in Greg's dark pubic hair and inhaling sharply. He smelled of sex and man, lust and just Greg. Mycroft knew he'd already become addicted to that scent, and he'd barely tasted.

 _Time to change that_ , Mycroft thought. Out loud he said, 'Put your legs over my shoulders.'

Greg blinked at him, looking confused.

'Gregory...'

'Oh, you're serious?' Greg mumbled a little dumbly. 'Uh... okay.'

He shifted on the sofa and hoisted his legs over Mycroft's shoulders, thighs resting either side of the younger boy's head. Mycroft moved him about a bit before he settle down, resting on his elbows.

'Now, I trust that Mummy taught you basic hygiene?' Mycroft queried.

'Um... what?'

'Do you wash thoroughly?' Mycroft demanded.

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'Why?'

Mycroft rolled his eyes. _Better to show him than talk about it,_ he thought. He pushed his hands under Greg's arse and lifted, his fingers digging hard into the pale cheeks. Greg gasped as his lower body was pulled further off the sofa and wiggled so he was comfortable.

'What are you- _ohholymotheroffuckinggod_!' Greg howled.

Mycroft's tongue had darted out and licked a strip over his puckered entrance, his fingers prying Greg's cheeks apart for better access.

'Jesus _fuck_!' Greg moaned, his entire body shaking. 'Fuck, Mycroft.'

'You're acting like you've never been rimmed before,' Mycroft mused.

Greg blushed. 'Um...'

'Seriously?' Mycroft asked. Greg blushed darker. 'Well, first time for everything,' Mycroft commented, licking again. 'I've actually never done this before.'

'N-No?' Greg stammered, clenching his fingers in the sofa cushions. ''Cause you're pretty fucking good.'

'Mm, safe-sex and all that,' Mycroft said. He blew across Greg's wet entrance and the brunette mewled, making Mycroft chuckle and do it again.

'Oh God you're good,' Greg murmured.

'Of course I am,' Mycroft smirked.

'Just get on with it,' Greg huffed. He reached down and grabbed Mycroft by the back of the head and practically slammed him face-first against his arse. Mycroft couldn't help but giggle and Greg growled, so he quickly got back to work with his tongue.

Greg turned into a blubbering wreck, his entire body wracked with shudder after shudder of pleasure. It wasn't as good as getting fucked, but Mycroft's tongue was so warm and wet, snaking across his hole before the tip pushed slightly, breaching his tight ring of muscle- muscle only made tighter by Greg's dry-spell.

He moaned and twisted against the sofa, his nails digging into Mycroft's scalp and the cushions, his legs shaking either side of his boyfriend's head. Finally Mycroft's tongue was pushed all the way in and Greg was close to either howling or gnawing his bottom lip right off.

'Fuck, Myc, so fucking good,' he moaned.

Mycroft pulled back to catch his breath, breathing heavily over Greg's now slightly-dilated entrance.

'What... what's it like?' he asked.

'Mm... bitter,' Mycroft commented. 'Tastes a bit like how you smell- like sex, like man.' He licked his lips. 'I like it.'

'Well get back to it,' Greg ordered.

Mycroft shook his head. 'I have a better idea.' When Greg raised an eyebrow, Mycroft moved a bit so he could raise his right hand. He pressed his index and middle fingers together and pushed them against Greg's swollen lips. 'Suck.'

Greg's eyes lit up as he realised what Mycroft wanted and quickly drew the digits into his mouth, sucking hard, tongue swirling around Mycroft's finger-tips and tasting sweat.

'Fuck,' Mycroft moaned, just imagining those lips wrapped around his cock, that tongue doing deliciously dirty things to the head of his dick. 'Okay, easy,' Mycroft said as he drew his fingers back. 'You'll make me come in my trousers.'

'You got no self-control,' Greg groaned.

'Not around you I don't,' Mycroft nodded. He drew away and Greg's legs fell back to the sofa but Mycroft was quick to nudge them further apart. Greg grabbed the armrest behind his head with one hand, the other latching onto the back of the soda. 'Are you okay with this?' Mycroft asked before he got too far ahead of himself.

'I sucked your fingers, didn't I?' Greg said. 'Yeah, this is _exactly_ what I want.' He rolled his hips, swollen cock flopping against his t-shirt. 'Chop, chop.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes and said, 'If I didn't want you so much I'd leave right now.'

'But you _doo_ ,' Greg teased.

 _Enough talk_ , Mycroft thought and got to work. He grabbed a cushion and tucked it under Greg's lower back, bringing his hips up and giving Mycroft easier access. He used his left fingers to peel Greg's cheeks apart and the older teen whimpered as Mycroft circled his entrance with one finger.

'Please,' Greg said, back to begging. 'Myc, don't make me wait.'

Well, who was Mycroft to deny his boyfriend anything? He slid the tip of his finger in and groaned at the tight heat that wrapped around him. 'Fuck.'

'Oh yeah,' Greg moaned. 'More, more, _more_!'

Mycroft thrust his finger all the way inside and Greg cried out, his body more sensitive than usual.

'Shit, you okay?' Mycroft asked, his usual politeness thrown right out the window.

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg gasped, his chest rising and falling rapidly. 'Sorry, just been a while since I bottomed.'

'How long?'

'Um... 'bout three weeks before me and you first snogged,' he admitted. Mycroft went to draw his finger out but Greg purposely clenched. 'Don't,' he said with a head shake. 'I've bottomed plenty of times, Mycroft. Just go slow, yeah?'

Mycroft nodded and drew his finger out slowly before going back in. Greg immediately moaned and his head tipped back. Mycroft moved slowly, gently fingering his boyfriend and opening him up. Soon Greg was thrusting down, rolling his hips and dragging Mycroft deeper inside.

Mycroft thrust another finger inside and Greg swore. 'Oh fuck, that's good.'

Mycroft felt his worry ease away and moved his head, lips ghosting along Greg's shaft. It immediately twitched and Mycroft blew hot breath over the head.

'Oh God,' Greg moaned.

Mycroft curled his fingers gently and reached up for Greg's cock with the other hand. He wrapped it around the thick organ and brought it to his lips, just as-

' _FUCK_!' Greg howled as Mycroft pressed hard against his prostate. The red-head wrapped his lips around the head of Greg's prick at the same time and sucked, causing Greg to spasm and thrust up.

Mycroft hummed, swallowing again and urging Greg to push further into his mouth. Greg did just that, fingers twisting in Mycroft's hair so he had absolute control. Mycroft let Greg thrust into his mouth, sucking and hollowing his cheeks, his tongue licking pre-ejaculate from his boyfriend's slit. He thrust his fingers in and out of the brunette's arse, touching his prostate every third or fourth thrust and making Greg moan in pleasure.

'Fuck, Mycroft, you're so good,' Greg praised. 'So fucking good with that mouth.'

Mycroft hummed in pleasure.

'God, what you do to me,' Greg panted, glancing down. The sight of Mycroft's polite mouth wrapped around his cock was almost enough to force him over the edge.

But he held on as long as he could, body assaulted with wave after wave of white-hot pleasure. It had been too long since he'd had a guy's fingers- or cock- in his arse, and he wanted to savour the feeling. Plus it was _Mycroft_ ; this was the first time they'd done any penetration.

Greg peeled his eyes open when Mycroft pulled back, Greg's cock falling from his lips with a wet sucking sound. Mycroft licked his swollen lips and said, 'Don't hold back, Greg. I want you to come down my throat.'

He ducked right back down and sucked Greg in, Greg moaning and thrusting up. 'Fuck, you're... Jesus, I don't even know,' Greg grunted. 'Fuck, fuck, _fuckedy-fuck_!'

Mycroft was stabbing at his prostate repeatedly and then went completely down on his partner, the head of Greg's cock hitting the back of his throat. Mycroft swallowed and Greg launched himself up, balls tightening, vision going blurry, entire body ready to-

He came with a shouted, 'MYCROFT!' emptying himself in hot spurts down the red-head's throat. Mycroft moaned in appreciation, throat working to swallow Greg's load, tongue licking his twitching cock clean. Mycroft felt Greg's muscles tighten around his fingers and almost came at the thought of those same muscles squeezing hard around his dick.

Greg slumped against the sofa completely spent, mouth wide as he sucked in lungfulls of air. Mycroft pulled his fingers out gently and was careful to avoid the sensitive head of Greg's cock as the older teenager slid from his mouth.

After making sure that Greg was okay, Mycroft straddled his hips and Greg looked up through sated eyes, watching as Mycroft undid his own jeans and flicked the button. He jerked the zipper down and dug a hand into his boxer-briefs, quickly pulling out his cock.

Mycroft pressed himself against Greg, shaft heavy and leaking copiously. He rubbed up and down Greg's stomach and along his own softening dick, his breath ragged as he moved.

'Touch me,' Mycroft ordered as he rolled his hips, trying to get Greg's hand on him. Greg blinked past the haze of pleasure that had descended over him and reached between their bodies. He wrapped his right fingers around Mycroft's shaft and tugged.

The genius groaned so Greg did it again; and again and again and again until he was jerking Mycroft off at a smooth, steady pace, Mycroft himself thrusting into Greg's loose fist.

'Fuck, Greg,' Mycroft grunted. His head was hanging, auburn hair stuck to his forehead in thick clumps. Teeth dug into his plump, swollen lower lip, and his arms shook on either side of Greg as he fought to keep himself up.

Greg wrapped his free arm around Mycroft's shoulders and tugged him forward, making Mycroft gasp as they were suddenly chest-to-chest again. Greg breathed heavily into Mycroft's ear and said, 'God, Mycroft, you feel so good.'

Mycroft moaned in response, hips thrusting against Greg's, pre-come leaking over the brunette's shirt. Greg didn't care, though, not when he could feel Mycroft's body shaking against his own. He was still holding up most of his weight even as Greg's legs locked around his waist, Greg thrusting up so his groin was pressing against Mycroft's cock.

He flicked his thumb through the sticky pre-ejaculate leaking from the slit of Mycroft's prick, using it as lubricant so he could move his hand faster. Mycroft was hot and heavy, shaft sliding against his fingers.

'God, feels... so... good,' Mycroft moaned. He arched into Greg's body, head now thrust back, eyes squeezed shut and mouth hanging open. Greg couldn't help but jump forward and latch onto that beautiful pale neck.

Mycroft whined as Greg's teeth sank into his skin, lips sucking back and tongue laving over the flesh as he sucked back. Mycroft shifted his body a bit to give Greg more room, and Greg took that as an invitation to mark his boyfriend.

When Greg pulled back after forming a nice, large love-bite on the side of Mycroft's skin, he pressed his lips to Mycroft's ear and hissed, 'Come for me.'

Mycroft moaned, hips jolting and becoming erratic.

'Come on, Mycroft,' Greg moaned, breath ghosting Mycroft's ear and making the younger boy shiver violently. 'Fuck, you feel good in my hand.'

'Guuhh...' was Mycroft's reply and Greg smirked. He leaned that little bit closer and his tongue darted out, licking the shell of Mycroft's ear. He purposely blew hot breath over his boyfriend and felt Mycroft shudder again.

'Come on,' Greg repeated. He twisted his wrist, thumb flicking hard over the tip of Mycroft's cock.

'Oh God,' Mycroft cried out.

'That's it,' Greg cooed. 'Come for me, Mikey, come for me.'

He sped up, hand beginning to ache as it shot up and down Mycroft's impressive erection. Greg licked his lips, just imagining what it would feel like to have that inside him; fucking him into the mattress, table, floor, wherever the hell Mycroft wanted him.

'God, I can't wait for you to fuck me,' Greg moaned. He was in danger of getting hard again. 'Your cock, inside me, my muscles squeezing-'

That was all it took; Mycroft came with a cry, back arching and muscles bulging as he orgasmed over Greg's shirt. Greg stroked him through it, avoiding the sensitive head but milking the climax from him.

Mycroft sat completely still, Greg wrapped around him, until his cock gave up every last drop. And then he fell against Greg, face buried in his neck, breath hot and ragged against flushed skin.

Greg circled both arms around his partner and hummed softly, stroking Mycroft's back as he slowly came down from his high. When he did he blinked rapidly and looked up at Mycroft with sated eyes.

'I can't believe we had sex on the sofa,' he commented.

Mycroft smirked. 'You didn't exactly... ask me to stop,' he pointed out, breathing still heavy. 'I distinctly heard... "oh God"... "more"... "fuck, your fingers feel _soo_ good"...'

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg grunted, giving Mycroft a lop-sided smile. 'I get it.'

'Do you?' Mycroft queried.

'Um... you're amazing?' Greg tried.

Mycroft chuckled and ducked down to give Greg a soft kiss. 'Exactly,' he breathed when he drew back. Greg grinned at him.

'Um... you wanna stay the night again?' Greg asked suddenly while they were rearranging their clothes. Greg's shirt was a lost cause and he just tugged it off, balling it up and standing.

Mycroft looked up at him. 'You want me to sleep over?'

Greg nodded and said, 'Mum won't be home 'til eight or nine tomorrow, maybe later. Plenty of time for us to get up and you to get back home and get changed for school.'

Mycroft continued to stare at him.

'You don't _have_ to,' Greg mumbled, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 'I just thought it'd be nice to, ya know, spend the night together now that we're actually dating.'

Mycroft looked Greg over carefully before nodding. 'Okay.'

Greg jumped. 'What?'

'I said okay.'

'Are... are you sure?' Greg asked. Mycroft tilted his head. 'Really?'

'Yes, I... I liked spending the night with you,' Mycroft smiled. 'Waking up with you is... nice.'

The smile on Greg's face couldn't be described as anything other than beautiful. He tugged Mycroft to his feet and captured his lips, Mycroft's hands going to his hips to hold him steady. The two exchanged soft, slow kisses until they broke apart and grinned at each other.

'You can borrow some pyjamas,' Greg said. 'We're more or less the same size.'

Mycroft smiled and pecked him on the lips again before slapping Greg on the arse.

'Oi!'

'Let's get changed,' Mycroft said, a smirk on his face. 'And we can get under the blankets and watch NCIS.'

'Yes, sir!' Greg said. He saluted Mycroft before practically bouncing to his room, making Mycroft chuckle as he followed.


	42. Accidentally In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Accidentally In Love by Counting Crows

Greg changed into a pair of pyjama bottoms and a black shirt, Mycroft wearing something similar. Greg dragged his duvet out into the sitting room and locked the front door before turning off all the lights and snuggling with Mycroft on the sofa.

It was almost ten when Greg brought up something that had been niggling at his mind since the first time Mycroft had kissed him. Mycroft was sitting beside the arm rest, left leg tucked under himself, with Greg's back pressed into him, legs bent and Mycroft's right arm leaning on them. He had his left wrapped around Greg's body, their fingers linked beneath the duvet, while his right hand drew lazy circles on Greg's knee and thigh.

Shifting a bit to look up at his boyfriend- his _boyfriend_!- Greg cleared his throat. Mycroft didn't take his eyes of the TV but one of his eyebrows went up.

'Have you ever let anyone top you?' Greg asked.

Mycroft glanced down at him. 'Yes, I've bottomed before.'

'No, I mean _really_ top you,' Greg said. 'Like, dominate you completely.' Mycroft just stared at him. 'What I mean,' Greg continued, 'is... well, you know how you act all controlling and rough when you have sex with blokes?'

Mycroft nodded.

'That's you dominating them,' Greg said. 'And I think that even though you _like_ that, it isn't enough. You need someone to do that to you sometimes.'

'You think I need to submit to someone?' Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded and said, 'Yeah, and I don't just mean letting them stick their cock in you. Even when you bottom, Mycroft, you're still on top. You control how fast they fuck you, exactly what happens, _everything_.

'And I'm not saying that you don't like that, 'cause clearly you love being a controlling prick.' Mycroft chuckled. 'But I think that sometimes you need someone to dominate _you_. You need someone else to be the controlling prick, someone to tie you up, control everything, and fuck you in any way they see fit.

'That's why you don't enjoy sex,' Greg continyed. 'You're doing too much controlling, and sometimes you need to really submit to someone.'

Greg watched Mycroft carefully after he finished, wondering if he'd said the right thing. Ever since their first snog, Greg had had the feeling that Mycroft Holmes really needed to submit to someone. He wasn't sure if he was right, but figured he should say something if it could help Mycroft.

It had taken Greg two years to realise that he preferred bottoming to blokes. Greg _did_ like topping- fucking loved it, really- but he much preferred being on the bottom. There was just something so liberating about getting fucked halfway into next week.

And it wasn't until meeting Mycroft that Greg had realised he really liked submitting to blokes- or maybe just Mycroft. He liked it when Mycroft took control of their kissing, oral sex, touching, _everything_. He liked having someone else make the decisions; he liked Mycroft being in charge.

And while it was clear that Mycroft liked _being_ in charge, Greg had started to wonder if maybe what _he_ liked was what Mycroft was missing; maybe Mycroft needed to dominate someone who had already dominated _him_.

Greg wasn't sure if that made sense, really, and the longer Mycroft remained silent, the more worried he got. Maybe Mycroft was just too picky when it came to sex; maybe Greg just wasn't good enough; maybe-

His inner-ramblings were cut sure when Mycroft's warm, gentle lips pressed against his own. Though confused, Greg kissed back softly until Mycroft pulled away.

'You raise a valid point, Greg,' Mycroft said.

'I do?'

The other teenager nodded, leaning back and squeezing Greg's fingers. 'I've never _really_ submitted to anyone,' he said. 'When I started having sex I realised I didn't want the social norm, or completely "vanilla" sex, as they call it. I don't _mind_ gentle, vanilla sex, but I find I rather enjoyed holding men down and forcing them to do what I want- as long as they were okay with that, of course.'

Greg nodded though remained silent so Mycroft could continue.

'I enjoyed tying men up, dominating them, being rough, and generally letting my usual controlling personality run free in the bedroom. I still enjoy that, especially with you.' He paused, blue eyes roaming over Greg and making the older teen blush. 'I enjoy it with you more than I have with anyone else,' Mycroft admitted. 'But I still feel like there's something... missing.'

'Well... can you imagine yourself submitting to me?' Greg asked. 'Just imagine me doing what you usually do.'

Mycroft frowned, eyes becoming distant as he thought.

'I don't mean all the time, but I think we need to balance it out,' Greg said. 'I admit that I prefer being fucked, but every now and then I need to do the fucking, just so _getting_ fucked doesn't become repetitive... if that makes sense.'

'It does,' Mycroft mumbled, still thinking. 'So what you're saying,' he finally continued, 'is that I need to be completely dominated every now and then.' Greg nodded. 'And I need a partner who makes me work for their submission.' Greg nodded again. 'I see...'

'I'm not saying we _have_ to do that,' Greg said, 'I just thought that maybe it's what you need. Obviously you should think about it before we do anything.'

Mycroft nodded before asking, 'You like being on the bottom?'

'Yeah,' Greg said, 'I realised that when I was... probably about sixteen. I just enjoy it a lot more than topping. It was Dimmock who actually made me realise it.'

'Really?'

Greg nodded. 'When he fucked me he was in control because it was his first time; I let him be in charge of everything so he wouldn't freak out. Afterwards I realised it was one of the better shags I'd had so the next few blokes I slept with, I let them fuck me, and... well, I liked it.

'Don't get me wrong, I _do_ like fucking guys,' Greg continued, 'but not as much as I like getting fucked.'

Mycroft chuckled.

'And,' Greg hesitated, Mycroft looking at him, 'when I first realised who you really were... um, do you remember holding me against the wall after I caught you shagging that bloke?'

Mycroft nodded.

'Well that was the first time anyone had _really_ dominated me,' Greg admitted. 'I know we didn't do anything, but you were completely in control of everything, and I'd _never_ been that hard before in my life.'

'Really?' Mycroft said. When Greg nodded he asked, 'Never?'

'I'd never really considered the whole BDSM thing,' Greg admitted. 'By that point I knew I preferred being on the bottom, I just didn't realise I _really_ liked being man-handled.'

'And if... if that's what _I_ need,' Mycroft said slowly, 'you'd be okay with dominating me?'

'Yeah, 'course I would,' Greg said. 'I think you prefer to do the fucking, in all honesty, but sometimes you need a good pounding to spice up your life and satisfy you.'

Mycroft chuckled and leaned down to kiss him again. 'I'll give it some more thought,' he promised.

'M'kay,' Greg smiled. 'I'm not saying all this just so you'll fuck me, or let me fuck you. I just thought it might help.'

'I'll definitely consider it,' Mycroft nodded.

Greg kissed him again before they both settled back to watch the TV, still wrapped in each other's arms.

 

{oOo}

 

_I could definitely get used to this,_ Greg thought when he woke up with Mycroft in his arms for the second morning in a row. The other boy was a warm, heavy presence in his bed, and Greg wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms firmly around his boyfriend- God, he still got a kick out of that thought- and go back to bed.

Unfortunately it was almost five am, and Greg knew Maggie would be home anywhere between seven and nine, sometimes earlier if there were too many nurses working that morning.

Usually she only worked night shifts when someone was out sick; she couldn't just work whenever she fancied, what with having a son at home. But now that Greg was older Maggie had more freedom.

Greg thought about telling his mum to hang out with her nurse friends more, maybe go out to a bar, meet some men. Greg didn't mind his mum dating- the guys would just have to meet Greg's requirements before they were allowed to date his mum. She was too awesome to put up with some random dude who treated her like garbage.

Greg was lost in thought and didn't realise Mycroft was awake until the red-head murmured, 'Thinking too loud, shut up.'

'What?'

'You're thinking too much,' Mycroft mumbled. 'Shut up, m'tired.'

'How can my thinking annoy you?' Greg asked.

Mycroft shrugged and burrowed further into Greg's body. 'Just is,' he muttered. 'Stop it.'

'Sorry, sorry,' Greg smiled. He shifted back a bit so he could reach Mycroft's lips and captured them in a gentle, sweet kiss that made Mycroft groan.

'How am I supposed to sleep if you're kissing me like that?' he demanded.

'Dunno,' Greg shrugged. 'It's about five, anyway.'

Mycroft groaned. 'Don't wanna go home or go to school,' he complained.

'We could skive.'

'No,' Mycroft muttered.

'So you don't wanna go and you don't wanna skive?' Greg asked.

'I'm a paradox, Gregory.'

Greg snorted and ran his fingers through Mycroft's hair, earning a soft moan for his troubles. 'Now how am _I_ supposed to sleep when you're makin' noises like that?'

'You weren't sleepin',' Mycroft pointed out, pushing into Greg's fingers.

'Well I won't be now,' Greg said. 'My morning hard-on has a hard-on.'

'You make no sense.'

'It's five am on a Monday,' Greg said, ''course I don't make sense.'

'Shh,' Mycroft muttered, clumsily pushing a hand against Greg's face.

'Oi!'

'I said _shh_ ,' Mycroft grunted.

'Shut up.'

' _You_ shut up.'

'You're cute in the morning,' Greg grinned.

'Am not,' Mycroft huffed, which really just made him look more adorable. 'Shut up,' Mycroft repeated. 'I can hear you thinking.'

'My brain's just super powerful like that,' Greg said matter-of-factly.

Mycroft chuckled and shook his head. 'Weirdo.'

'And you're datin' me; what's that say about you?'

'I'm a weirdo,' Mycroft hummed.

Greg just had to kiss him again. And when Mycroft kissed back, body warm and heavy against Greg's own, Greg couldn't help but grin; _Yeah, I could_ really _get used to this,_ he thought as Mycroft's tongue slid wetly against his own.

 

{oOo}

 

'Hey, Mycroft?'

'Mm?' the genius hummed.

The two had been dozing on and off for the past hour; Mycroft was planning on leaving at six thirty, giving him plenty of time to get home, get dressed, and make it to school on time.

Plus he'd be long gone by the time Maggie got home. Greg _did_ plan on telling his mum that he and Mycroft were dating, but her catching Mycroft after he'd spent the night definitely wasn't the way he wanted to start that conversation.

'When's your birthday?' Greg asked.

'My birthday?' Mycroft echoed. When Greg nodded, he said, 'October 17th.'

Greg frowned and sat up, making Mycroft huff as his pillow moved. 'But that was about a month ago.'

'Yes, it was.'

'Why didn't you tell me?' Greg demanded. 'We were together when you turned... seventeen, yeah?'

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'I turned seventeen. What's the big deal?'

'Why didn't you tell me?' Greg echoed.

Mycroft shrugged. 'It didn't seem important.'

'But it's your _birthday_ ,' Greg said. 'Of course it's important.'

'We weren't _together_ ,' Mycroft said. 'I didn't think it important to mention to my part-time shag.'

'But... we were friends, right?' Greg said.

Mycroft inclined an eyebrow. 'Were we?'

''Course we were.'

'Oh.'

'You didn't think we were friends?' Greg asked.

Mycroft shrugged again. 'I have one friend, Gregory, and that's Anthea.'

'Well... you have more now,' Greg told him. 'Me, Anthea, Dimmock, Molly... I'm pretty sure Sally considers you a mate, BJ too.'

'You think so?'

Greg nodded and said, ''Course. Anthea's your friend, right?' Mycroft inclined his head. 'And she's dating Sally, yeah?' Another nod from Mycroft. 'That makes her your mate. And 'cause _we're_ dating, Dimmock's your mate too, and by extension Molly.'

'Interesting,' Mycroft mused. 'Six friends... that's a record for a Holmes. Sherlock only has one.'

'I could be his friend,' Greg said. 'The kind that he insults and hates.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'He doesn't hate you, Gregory.'

'He doesn't?'

'No... he just disliked you because you couldn't see that I liked you. He was worried you'd break my heart.'

'Well that's good,' Greg said. 'Brothers should care for each other.'

'We do,' Mycroft said.

Greg waggled a finger at his boyfriend. 'Next time we're havin' a bloody party, alright?'

Mycroft chuckled. 'Yes, Gregory, we'll have a party.' He tilted his head. 'When's your birthday?'

'June 30th, still seven months away,' Greg smiled. 'Got some time before I turn the big one-eight.'

'You'll be able to drink legally,' Mycroft said.

'Guh, don't remind me,' Greg groaned. He flopped back onto the bed and Mycroft once more curled around him, head resting on Greg's chest. 'I'm getting old,' he muttered.

Mycroft snorted. 'You're turning eighteen in seven months; that's hardly old.'

'Older than you,' Greg pointed out.

'Only by a few months,' Mycroft reminded him.

'Mm,' Greg hummed before frowning. 'Can I ask you something?'

'If you wish.'

'How... how long have you fancied me?' He felt Mycroft stiffen slightly. 'Mycroft?'

The red-head sighed and said, 'I was attracted to you when I first saw you. It was my first day and you, Dimmock, Joe and Dylan were stuffing around outside the head office. Dimmock grabbed you around the neck and you punched him in the stomach. You were laughing and generally just being... you.'

Greg smiled slightly.

'I was instantly attracted to you,' Mycroft admitted. 'But it was over the first few months that I started to actually like you.'

'Really?'

Mycroft nodded. 'I liked how... honest you were. How you refused to deny that you were gay, that you were anything other than what you are.'

'But I was such a prick to you,' Greg said. 'I remember teasing you the first time we met; I made fun of you for being a stuck-up snob.'

'I know, and I hated that,' Mycroft nodded. 'But I didn't expect anything else. Anthea's the only person who saw through the facade I put up the first time. We first met when we were thirteen and she pulled me outside after dinner; she said I didn't have to lie to her, that I could be myself. In less than five minutes she had me admitting that I as gay, that I liked punk-rock music, and that I generally hated the world. She helped keep me together.'

'I gotta thank her for that,' Greg said. He leaned down and pressed his lips to Mycroft's hair.

'She definitely saved my life,' Mycroft nodded. 'Without her I would have completely lost it.'

'What about Sherlock?'

'Sherlock got me clean,' Mycroft said. Greg remembered his partner admitting to being a cocaine addict when he was younger and felt fear wrap around his heart. Mycroft would be dead if Sherlock hadn't found him. 'But he's only recently hit puberty, so we couldn't talk about me suddenly realising I was gay,' Mycroft continued. 'He understood the concept of being attracted to men, but he couldn't understand it until _he_ realised he liked boys too. Anthea could relate because she's gay too, she was there for me when I needed someone to talk to.'

'She's a good friend,' Greg said.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded.

'I had Dimmock to talk to,' Greg told Mycroft. 'When I realised I was gay I was so confused and scared. I thought there must be something wrong with me, just 'cause I didn't know anyone who was gay. And then I finally admitted to Dimmock that I was attracted to blokes.'

'What did he say?' Mycroft asked.

'He suspected,' Greg said, chuckling at the memory of coming out to his best mate. 'I thought he'd be angry, or think I wanted him or something. But he just nodded, said there was nothing wrong with me, and that he always suspected I liked blokes. Said something about me always teasing boys on the playground instead of girls.'

Mycroft chuckled and Greg smiled down at him.

'He didn't have a problem with it, said it didn't change who I was; I was still his best mate,' Greg shrugged. 'And this was before he realised he was bi.'

'Your mother was accepting, wasn't she?' Mycroft said.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Again, I was a bit worried that she'd think me being gay made me different, or made me weird. But she just hugged me, said I was still her little boy. She told me to talk to her if I ever had problems, or if I was confused about anything. Being a nurse, she's talked to a fair few teenagers who've tried to hurt themselves or been hurt 'cause they came out.'

'I love your mum,' Mycroft blurted. He blushed brightly when Greg looked down at him. 'Um...'

'Oh _do_ you?' Greg teased. 'So it's not _me_ you want-'

'Shut up,' Mycroft groaned, burying his face in Greg's chest.

Greg chuckled and stroked a hand through his boyfriend's hair. 'S'okay, Myc. I love my mum too. She's one of the best people you could ever meet.'

'I wish my parents were more like her,' Mycroft said softly.

Greg sighed. 'Yeah, me too,' he said, thinking about Siger and Meghan Holmes. He couldn't get a read on Meghan; didn't know if she'd hate her eldest son for being gay. From what he'd heard, Siger Holmes would flip out. 'Life isn't fair,' he mused.

'No, it's not,' Mycroft agreed. He leaned up and pressed their lips together, Greg blinking in surprise but kissing back. When they pulled apart Mycroft smiled. 'But sometimes it gives you what you want.'

Greg smiled and kissed him again before they settled back down.

'Gregory, why'd you suddenly ask me out?' Mycroft asked.

'What?' Greg said.

Mycroft sat up, leaning on one elbow and looking down at the brunette. 'Why did you choose yesterday to ask me out?'

'Oh... um...' Greg blushed.

'Gregory?' Mycroft prodded.

'Um... well, you kinda let slip that you liked me,' Greg admitted.

Mycroft frowned. 'When?'

'The other night when you were drunk,' Greg said, 'I asked why we hadn't had... you know, anal sex. You told me it was 'cause you fancied me and didn't wanna be just another random shag.'

Mycroft stared at Greg for a few seconds before his face turned an amazing shade of crimson. Greg grinned as the genius flopped onto his stomach and buried his face in Greg's pillows.

'Mycroft?'

'No, go away,' Mycroft groaned, voice muffled by the pillows. 'I can't believe I told you that!'

'Hey, no harm done,' Greg said, rolling over and touching Mycroft's shoulder. 'If you hadn't told me I wouldn't have asked you out.'

There was a pause before, 'Really?'

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'Dimmock and Molly kept teasing me, saying I liked you. I refused to admit it 'cause... dunno, guess I was scared. And when I _did_ realise that I liked you, I was terrified.'

Mycroft turned his head and one blue eye peeked up at Greg. 'Why?'

''Cause I thought you'd leave,' Greg admitted. 'I thought you didn't like me, that you just wanted me for sex. I was so scared that you'd figure out I fancied you and then leave. And when we had that fight at the movies, I thought for sure it was over.'

'I thought...' Mycroft paused before turning properly, face now clear. He wet his lips before trying again, 'I thought you were sick of me. I could tell that you wanted to leave, that you didn't want me around.'

'Well _I_ thought that if I started distancing myself it'd be easier when you finally left,' Greg said.

'So we both liked each other but were scared the other would leave when they found out.'

Greg nodded.

Mycroft groaned and said, 'We're _such_ idiots!' 

Greg giggled but nodded. 'Yeah, we are,' he agreed. 'But _you_ are a genius, I'm just an ordinary guy. I'm allowed to be an idiot.'

'And I'm not?' Mycroft demanded.

'Nope,' Greg shook his head, 'you gotta be the smart one and stop me from stuffing up. When I screw up, you gotta tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it, then we can have fantastic make up sex.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'What if I want you to figure it out yourself?'

'Um... well, as long as you give me a few months to figure it out,' Greg grinned.

'I'll leave hints,' Mycroft promised.

'And I'll ask my mum and Dimmo what I did wrong,' Greg said. 'I'm sure they'll know and take great fun in pointing it out.'

Mycroft chuckled and grabbed Greg, hauling him down for a snog. Greg went willingly; who was he to deny what Mycroft wanted?

 

{oOo}

 

They lay in bed snogging for another half hour before Mycroft decided he had to leave. It would take twenty minutes for him to get home, another half hour to get dressed and get all his stuff together. So he and Greg kissed for a few minutes before Mycroft changed into his own clothes.

'I had... fun?' Mycroft tried. Greg chuckled. 'It was nice, sleeping in the same bed with you,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah, it was,' Greg agreed. 'We'll have to do it again.'

'Just let me know when your mother's working and I'll sneak in,' Mycroft grinned.

'Oh I'll _definitely_ let you know,' Greg said. He grabbed Mycroft by the shirt and kissed him again.

Finally Mycroft pulled away and they walked down the hall and across the sitting room. Greg went to open the door, but before he could it was pushed open. Greg stepped back to avoid being hit by the wood and his mouth dropped open when Maggie stepped in.

'It's getting cold out,' she said, shaking her coat as she hung it up. 'They said it's gonna snow soon.'

'Um...' Greg began, only to trail off when Maggie finally looked up. She froze when she saw Mycroft, who was practically hiding behind Greg. Her eyebrows went up and a small smile tugged at her lips.

'Good morning, Mycroft.'

'G-Good morning,' Mycroft mumbled.

'So... what are you doing here?' Maggie queried. 'It's six-thirty on a Monday, shouldn't you be home in bed?'

'I... that is, I was... h-homework...' Mycroft mumbled.

'Homework?' Maggie asked. The two teenagers nodded. 'You're telling me- _both of you_ are telling me- that you, Mycroft, got up at six on a Monday morning, and drove over here to talk to my son about homework?'

'Yes,' they said in unison.

'Really?'

They both nodded.

'And the fact that you two are "not in a relationship"-' Maggie made air-quotes around the last four words, '- has nothing to do with it?' she asked.

'Absolutely not,' Mycroft shook his head.

'Not a damn thing,' Greg agreed.

'Though we _are_ in a relationship,' Mycroft added.

Greg rounded on him, 'Mycroft!'

'What?' Mycroft said. 'I'm not going to deny that I'm dating you.'

'Yeah, but I should be the one to tell my mum!' Greg snapped.

Mycroft simply raised an eyebrow and Greg scowled at him.

'What's going on?' Maggie asked.

'Um,' Greg mumbled.

'Are you two finally dating?'

'I... we... yes,' Greg admitted softly.

'I see,' Maggie smiled. 'So you finally pulled your head out and realised you fancy Mycroft?'

' _Mum_ ,' Greg groaned.

'What?' Maggie said. 'Honestly, Greg, it took you nearly three _months_ to realise you like the boy.'

'Yeah, yeah, I'm slow,' Greg scowled. 'Can we stop picking on Greg now?'

Maggie chuckled and crossed the distance between them, placing a soft kiss on her son's cheek. 'Sorry, honey,' she smiled. 'I'm happy for you, really I am.' She beamed at Mycroft and dragged him in for a hug, Greg snickering at the dark blush that crept along the genius' face. 'Welcome to the family, Mycroft.'

'Thank you,' Mycroft mumbled.

'So... you're okay with it?' Greg asked. 'Me being Mycroft's boyfriend and all?'

'Of course I am,' Maggie said as she released Mycroft. 'You two treat each other with respect and I don't have a problem.' She looked at Mycroft. 'I take it you don't want your mother to know?'

Mycroft shook his head vigorously. 'I don't like lying,' he said, 'but I have no idea how my mother will react to me being gay.'

'And your father?' Maggie asked.

Greg scowled and Mycroft looked down. 'He'd disown me,' he admitted softly.

'What?' Maggie gaped. 'Just because you like men?'

Mycroft nodded and Greg said, 'He's a bastard.'

Maggie sighed. 'Gregory-'

'He is!' Greg insisted.

'He really is,' Mycroft told her. 'I don't like to speak ill of my father, but... he's not a nice man.'

Maggie frowned as she looked Mycroft over but eventually nodded. 'Okay, Mycroft, I won't tell either of them,' she said. 'It's none of my business.'

'Thank you,' Mycroft said softly.

Maggie rounded on her son. 'And _you_!'

'Me what?' Greg asked. 'I didn't do anything!'

'You snuck your boyfriend in while I was at work,' Maggie tisked. 'Greg, Mycroft can stay over, as long as I know about it.'

Greg stared at her. 'Really?'

'Of course, you're both seventeen,' Maggie shrugged as she walked past them. 'I'd rather you both here, safe, then sneaking out in the middle of the night to spend time together. As long as you clear it with me first, Mycroft can stay.'

'Even if it's a school night?' Greg asked.

'As long as you're both up and out the door in time for school, I don't see the problem,' Maggie said.

Greg couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. 'You're the _best_ , Mum!'

'Oh, I know,' Maggie smirked.

'And so humble, too,' Greg tutted.

'Life's too short to be humble, love!' Maggie called as she walked down the hallway to her bedroom. 'Now hurry up and say goodbye to Mycroft so you aren't late for school!'

Greg chuckled and turned, only to find himself with an arm-full of Mycroft. 'Myc?'

'I love your mum,' Mycroft mumbled against his neck.

Greg smiled. 'Yeah, I do too.'

'She's the best.'

'Yeah.'

'I want her to be my mum.'

Greg chuckled. 'I'm sure she'd love to have you be her son,' he said. 'She can make you lunch, tuck you in at night, cut the crusts off your sandwich.'

'Gregory!' Mycroft huffed as he drew back. 'The crusts are the best part,' he said.

Greg burst into laughter and Mycroft smiled as his boyfriend giggled. When Greg had control of himself he said, 'Okay, so she can leave the crusts on.'

Mycroft shook his head but was still smiling as he leaned over to kiss Greg. 'I'd better go,' he said when they drew apart.

'Yeah,' Greg sighed. 'I'll see you at school?'

'Of course,' Mycroft nodded.

Greg walked him out and to his car, and the two shared another soft, warm kiss before Mycroft was leaving. Greg still had a grin on his face, and not even Maggie's teasing could take it away.

 

{oOo}

 

'Where the hell have you been?' Sherlock demanded as soon as Mycroft walked into his room.

'Gregory's,' Mycroft said. He walked into his wardrobe and Sherlock remained sitting on the bed. 'Why?'

'I was worried,' Sherlock said. Though he'd never admit it in front of John or anyone else, Sherlock didn't mind saying it to his brother. 'I texted you.'

Mycroft pulled his BlackBerry from his jeans and saw that he had four missed calls and two texts; one from Sherlock, the other from Anthea. He read them quickly and smiled.

'My?'

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft called as he changed into his school uniform. 'Yesterday was... busy,' Mycroft said.

'Why, what happened?' Sherlock asked, still sounding worried.

Mycroft tried to wipe the smile off his face as he grabbed his school blazer and tie. It had been getting progressively colder lately and Mycroft knew it would start snowing soon, so he grabbed a scarf, just in case.

He exited his wardrobe and dumped his tie, blazer, scarf and shoes on his bed as he tugged on a pair of socks.

'My?' Sherlock questioned again.

'Gregory... he...' Mycroft trailed off, unsure if he should just say it. Sherlock had been worried ever since he caught Mycroft staring at Greg in school.

'He what?' Sherlock demanded, face turning into a scowl. 'What did he do?' he growled.

'Nothing,' Mycroft shook his head. 'Well, something, but it was a good something.'

Sherlock frowned. 'You're confusing me.' Mycroft chuckled. 'My, just tell me why the hell you ignored my calls!'

'My phone was on vibrate,' Mycroft said.

'So?' Sherlock growled.

'Gregory... he asked me out,' Mycroft finally admitted. Sherlock's mouth dropped open and he stared as his brother sat on the bed, tugging on his leather school shoes.

'He _what_?' Sherlock gaped.

'He asked me out,' Mycroft repeated. 'We're officially dating; in a committed relationship; boyfriends; monogamous; so on and so forth.'

'Are... you're serious,' Sherlock said as his blue eyes swept over the older Holmes. 'You and Lestrade are _dating_.'

'Yes, we are.'

'Can you trust him?' Sherlock asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft said. 'Gregory won't cheat on me, Sherlock.'

'I just don't want to see you hurt,' Sherlock said. 'And I'd rather wait until I reach adulthood before committing my first murder.'

Mycroft chuckled. His brother might be odd, but he _did_ care. 'Thank you for worrying, Sherlock. And if Gregory breaks my heart, feel free to break him.'

'Good,' Sherlock said.

'But he won't,' Mycroft said. 'We talked, we got everything out in the open.'

'That's good, Mycroft,' Sherlock smiled. 'I'm happy for you.'

Mycroft smiled back. 'Thank you, brother.'

The younger genius nodded. 'I'll be watching, My,' he promised. 'If Lestrade screws up-'

'He'll have to face you,' Mycroft cut in. 'Yes, I know.'

'And John,' Sherlock said. 'Anthea too; Mrs Hudson, Mr Andrew, they'll all help me hide the body.'

'Good to know,' Mycroft chuckled.

'I... I really _am_ happy for you,' Sherlock said softly. 'You've been pining for years.'

'I know,' Mycroft said. He watched as Sherlock slid off the bed and pulled out his mobile. 'You're not texting John,' Mycroft groaned.

'Of course I am,' Sherlock grinned evilly. 'He'll want to know.'

'You two are worse than Mother and her friends.'

'We are _not_!' Sherlock almost shrieked, looking highly offended.

'You are,' Mycroft teased.

'Guh, being in a relationship has made you more of a bastard,' Sherlock huffed. He stormed from the room and Mycroft chuckled as he pulled his school tie on.


	43. SING

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** SING by My Chemical Romance
> 
> **Author's Note:** The following chapter has dialogue in French that has been translated by **Elizabeth Mary Holmes**. The same words are written beneath in English and in brackets: []. Any mistakes are my own.
> 
> {Dreamer}

Greg had completely forgotten that he'd left his bike at Dimmock's. So after a bit of panicking- and his mum telling him off- Maggie drove him to Dimmock's to pick up his bike. Greg managed to push it out of the driveway and halfway down the street without alerting Dimmock that he was there; Greg was still trying to decide exactly how to tell his best friend that he was dating Mycroft without Dimmock shouting, " _I TOLD YOU SO_!"

He had the feeling it was a lost cause... and he'd probably have to face Molly, BJ Masters, Sally Donovan, Sherlock and John too.

Despite that, Greg was still in a great mood when he pulled into the carpark at school; he and Mycroft were _dating_! Suddenly everything just seemed right and Greg smiled broadly as he got off his bike and set his helmet down. Checking his watch, he leaned against his bike and waited for his boyfriend.

 

{oOo}

 

Mycroft gave Sherlock and John a lift to school in repayment for Sherlock covering for him the previous two nights. Sometimes it was handy having a brother. As soon as Sherlock and John saw Greg- who was standing by his bike waiting- they both whistled and started teasing.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and cuffed them both over the back of their heads. Sherlock smirked and bounced away while John grinned toothily.

'Stop it,' Mycroft ordered.

'Never,' John said while Sherlock poked his tongue out.

'Hey...' Greg said when he spotted them. He blushed slightly when the younger students smirked at him. 'Um...'

'We know you're _boyfriends_ ,' John grinned.

'So go on, give him a kiss,' Sherlock said, pointing at Mycroft. 'We know you want to.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes and Greg blushed, but stepped forward and gave his partner a chaste kiss.

' _So_ cute,' John chuckled and Sherlock nodded.

'Don't you two have something better to do?' Mycroft drawled.

'Like go make out and pretend you don't fancy each other?' Greg added.

John blushed brightly and Sherlock snapped, 'We _don't_ -'

'Blah, blah,' Greg interrupted as he flapped a hand. 'Sure you don't.'

'I hate you,' Sherlock snapped.

'I'm wounded,' Greg said, clutching his chest.

'Mycroft, control your boyfriend!' Sherlock ordered.

'But he's _so_ funny,' Mycroft grinned. 'And right.'

'He is _not_!' Sherlock growled.

'Mm-hmm,' Mycroft hummed.

Sherlock sniffed and said, 'Come along, John.'

'Yes, go along, John,' Greg nodded.

John poked his tongue out and quickly walked away, Sherlock flipping Greg off as he followed. Greg chuckled and Mycroft smiled at him.

'I knew there was a reason I liked you,' the genius commented.

'Well my devilish good-looks definitely help,' Greg grinned. He stepped closer and grabbed Mycroft's hand, threading their fingers together. Mycroft raised an eyebrow and Greg said, 'I won't hide what we mean to each other.'

'Really?' Greg nodded and Mycroft smiled. 'Thank you,' he said.

'I ain't ashamed of being with you,' Greg told him. 'If anything, I want everyone to know that you're mine.'

'Am I?'

Greg nodded again. 'Just like I'm yours,' he said.

Mycroft smiled brightly and lifted their joined hands. He pressed a kiss to Greg's knuckles and Greg smiled brightly.

'Come on,' he said and tugged Mycroft towards the smokers' corner. Mycroft followed, still grinning as he looked at their joined hands.

Dimmock was already there and a grin spread across his face when he saw them holding hands. 

_So much for avoiding him,_ Greg thought with a groan.

Drimmock raised an eyebrow and said, 'So...?'

'I... asked him out,' Greg admitted.

Dimmock immediately jumped to his feet, pumping a fist in the air. 'YES!' he shouted. 'Jesus fucking _Christ_ do you know how to ride the denial train, Greg!'

'Shut up,' Greg said, trying to kick his best mate.

Dimmock darted away and Greg flipped him off. 'You're happy, yeah?' Dimmock asked them both.

'Yeah,' Greg grinned while Mycroft nodded.

'Good,' Dimmock said. 'I'm happy for you, mate.'

'Thanks,' Greg said.

'You too, Mycroft,' Dimmock told the taller teenager. He held his arms wide. 'Welcome to the family, son!'

Mycroft chuckled and Greg rolled his eyes. 'God, you're worse than my mum.'

'Does Maggie know?'

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'She came home and found Mycroft leaving.'

'You spent the night together?' Dimmock said, waggling his eyebrows.

'I ain't givin' you any details,' Greg said.

'Oh come _on_ ,' Dimmock groaned.

'Isn't your own sex life enough?' Greg asked.

''Course it is,' Dimmock grinned. 'Doesn't mean I can't hear about yours.'

'Well you won't,' Mycroft said as he let go of Greg's hand to pull out his cigarettes. He gave one to Greg and lit them both with a box of matches.

'No fair,' Dimmock pouted. 'I had to watch this idiot-' he jerked a thumb at his best friend, '- deny over and over again that he was in love with you-'

'Oi!' Greg snapped.

'- and now I don't get details?' Dimmock demanded. ' _So_ unfair.' Mycroft shrugged. 'It's not like I can swap details about my sex life for info on yours,' Dimmock continued. 'I doubt either of you wanna hear about Molly naked.'

'You wouldn't tell us even if we wanted you to,' Greg pointed out.

'True,' Dimmock grinned. 'Molly would _so_ kick my arse.'

 

{oOo}

 

Mycroft walked Greg to his science class and Dimmock disappeared inside first. Greg smiled at Mycroft and leaned in for a kiss, but Mycroft pulled back quickly and looked around. After making sure they were practically alone, Mycroft closed the gap between them and pressed a chaste kiss to Greg's lips.

'I'll see you at lunch?'

'Ah... yeah,' Greg said softly, frowning at Mycroft's retreating back. Why hadn't Mycroft wanted to kiss him? Did he still want to keep up the facade he'd built since starting at Baker Street? Or did he just want to hide the fact that he was gay and dating Greg?

'Greg!' Mr Westen barked, breaking Greg from his thoughts.

'Sorry, sir,' he said as he walked inside.

'Just sit down,' Mr Westen said and went back to detailing what they were doing that lesson.

Greg slumped down next to Dimmock and both he and BJ looked Greg's way.

'What's up?' Dimmock whispered.

'Nothin',' Greg grumbled.

'Trouble in paradise?' Dimmock teased. Greg threw him a glare and Dimmock held his hands up.

'What's goin' on?' BJ asked from beside Dimmock.

'No idea,' Dimmock shrugged. They both watched as Greg wrenched his science textbook from his bag, practically slamming it on the bench. Mr Westen glared at him but Greg paid him no attention, his thoughts swimming around Mycroft.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg was still in a foul mood when he met up with Mycroft in the library at lunch. If anything he was even _angrier_. The genius didn't jump when Greg slammed his food down, nor when his bag was thrust so violently into a chair that it toppled over. He merely raised an eyebrow and finished the sentence he was writing before looking up.

Greg was scowling at him, hands curled into fists at his sides, and _clearly_ he was annoyed at Mycroft. Mycroft quickly went through everything that had happened that morning and couldn't think of anything he'd done wrong.

'Is something the matter?' he asked.

'Is something the matter?' Greg echoed. 'Is something the _matter_?'

Greg was drawing the attention of everyone in the library and Mycroft said, 'Gregory, keep your voice-'

'Why didn't you want to kiss me?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft frowned. 'When?'

'This morning before science,' Greg said. 'You hesitated before kissing me!'

'I didn't hesitate-'

'Yes you did!' Greg interrupted loudly. 'You pulled away and made sure we were alone!' Mycroft sighed but Greg wasn't done. 'Don't want people to know about us, huh?' he asked. 'Ashamed to be with me, is that it?'

'Don't be stupid,' Mycroft frowned.

'THEN WHAT?!' Greg screamed.

Mycroft jumped to his feet and grabbed Greg by the wrist, Greg grumbling and glaring at Mycroft as he was dragged down an aisle. Mycroft didn't stop until they reached the farthest corner in the library. He pushed Greg against one of the bookcases.

'Don't be stupid,' he repeated angrily. 'I don't care if people know that we're dating.'

'Then what's your problem?' Greg demanded.

'There's a difference between public displays of affection and groping your boyfriend in the middle of school!' Mycroft hissed. 'I can't guarantee that I won't lose control and make a complete fool of myself!'

Greg frowned at him. 'What?'

'Greg, we _just_ started dating,' Mycroft sighed. 'I know we've been... doing things, for a few months, but this relationship is still new. Now we're actually together- you're _my_ boyfriend. How the hell am I supposed to control myself when you kiss me?'

Greg continued to stare at him. 'You mean... you didn't... um...'

'Gregory, I don't care who knows,' Mycroft said. 'All I care about is you being happy- all I care about is _us_. But shamelessly groping each other in the middle of school isn't the way to show everyone that we're dating. And let's face it; if a heterosexual couple was found snogging, they'd _maybe_ get a slap on the wrist. If _we_ get caught making out, we'll probably face detention or suspension.'

Greg frowned. _Yeah, that's probably true,_ he thought.

'I'm not ashamed of you,' Mycroft said, his voice now soft. He took Greg's hand in his own and laced their fingers together. 'Please don't think that, Gregory. I never meant to hurt you, I just wanted to have some type of control over the situation.'

Greg looked down at their hands and breathed in and out deeply. Slowly his anger began to melt away. He could see the entire thing from Mycroft's point of view. Mycroft was a private person, and to go from being in the shadows to snogging your boyfriend beside a classroom full of students was a big leap. Plus there were possible detentions and marks on records to consider- and Greg knew that Mycroft wanted to go to a good university.

And really, Mycroft _had_ kissed him, after all. He'd just made sure it was appropriate for public viewing. And he never had a problem with making out with Greg in the carpark or smokers' corner.

'Gregory?' Mycroft said when Greg still remained silent.

Shaking his head, Greg looked up at his boyfriend and smiled softly. 'Yeah, I... I get what you're saying,' he nodded.

Mycroft searched his eyes. 'Really?' Greg nodded again. 'Are you sure?'

Greg chuckled and rolled his eyes before leaning forward and kissing the red-head gently. 'Yeah,' he said when they broke apart. 'I'm so hot you can't control yourself.'

Mycroft chuckled and gave him another kiss.

'God, I'm sorry,' Greg groaned, burying his face in Mycroft's neck.

'Why?'

'I'm _such_ an idiot; I overreacted, I didn't think... I'm sorry.'

'Don't be sorry,' Mycroft smiled. 'You were hurt, I understand that.'

'Yeah?'

'Yes,' Mycroft confirmed.

'Good,' Greg groaned. 'Otherwise this woulda been the shortest relationship in history.'

'No, I'm sure certain celebrities have had shorter relationships.'

Greg chuckled and squeezed their still-joined fingers. 'Sorry.'

'I am too,' Mycroft said. 'I honestly don't care who knows, Greg, and you can kiss me whenever you want. Just keep it chaste.'

Greg raised an eyebrow and smiled coyly. 'Anywhere, huh?'

Mycroft frowned. 'Gregory...'

'So... in English Lit, when Mr Jambrook's got his back turned, I can just lean over and plant a wet one right on your lips?'

'Gregory, don't be stupid.'

'I am _not_ being _stupid_ ,' Greg huffed in a dramatic voice. 'I just want to show the school- no, the _world_ \- that my heart has been completely stolen by one Mycroft... uh, what's your middle name?'

'Edwin,' Mycroft chuckled.

'Right; my heart has been completely stolen by one Mycroft Edwin Holmes,' Greg continued in a loud voice. 'And sometimes that amazing feeling just becomes far too much for one man to handle and I have to express it in a wet, flithy, absolutely _dirty_ goddamn snog!'

'Yes, Gregory, I get it,' Mycroft snorted.

'I don't think you do,' Greg said and waggled a finger in Mycroft's face. 'You see, what we feel for each other can't be contained by mere school rules.'

Mycroft groaned, his head tipping back. 'Why did I have to pick a lunatic to be my boyfriend?' he mused to himself.

'I can't help how I feel!' Greg shouted.

'Shut up!' Mycroft hissed and clamped a hand over Greg's face.

But the brunette fought him, a mad gleam in his eyes, and Mycroft yelped when he felt a tongue dart along his palm.

'You dirty little-'

'WE ARE ONE!' Greg hollered.

'Excuse me!'

Greg and Mycroft both froze before turning slowly. Mrs Patton, one of the librarians, was standing at the end of the aisle scowling at them.

'Sorry,' Mycroft said and quickly pulled away from Greg.

'What are you two doing?' Mrs Patton demanded.

'Expressing our hearts' joy-' Greg began, only for Mycroft to once again clamp a hand over his mouth.

He scowled at his boyfriend, and quickly said, 'Forgive him, he's got brain issues- you know, he doesn't understand that he can keep certain thoughts to himself.'

'Buf ow wuv...' Greg mumbled against the red-head's hand.

Mycroft glared at him and Mrs Patton raised an eyebrow. 'Yes, well...' she finally said, 'go sit down, okay?'

'Yes ma'am,' Mycroft said and quickly tugged Greg down the aisle. Greg threw a grin and wink at Mrs Patton, who rolled her eyes, but let Mycroft pull him along. 'You are absolutely infuriating, do you know that?' Mycroft growled.

A fair few people were staring at them and Greg just grinned. 'But you _wuv_ me,' he cooed.

'I'm beginning to re-think our relationship,' Mycroft threatened.

'Are not,' Greg pouted and fell into his seat. ''Cause I'm _so_ hot you can't control yourself.'

Mycroft groaned and thumped his head against the desk.

 

{oOo}

 

Remembering their earlier fight in the library, Mycroft grabbed Greg after the older boy had shut his locker. 'Mycroft?' Greg questioned but gasped when Mycroft thrust him against the lockers. Mycroft's warm, full lips were suddenly pressed hard against his own and Greg groaned, dropping his PE textbook in favour of wrapping his arms around Mycroft's neck.

Well, this wasn't _exactly_ what Mycroft had planned, but as he'd predicted he got lost in Greg's taste and the feel of his lips and _oh God, Greg's hand was squeezing his arse!_

Mycroft moaned into Greg's mouth as the two exchanged air and saliva, their tongues sliding wetly against each other, Mycroft's body now crushed up against Greg's and Greg trapped between him and the lockers.

Mycroft's right hand threaded through Greg's hair gently before tugging roughly, making Greg gasp into his mouth and giving Mycroft easier access. He wasted no time in thoroughly plundering Greg's mouth; his tongue mapping out the roof, each and every tooth, as well as his gums and tongue and there was a good chance Mycroft would have a detailed map of Greg's tonsils by the end of the kiss.

Greg moaned shamelessly and ground his groin against Mycroft's, earning a soft whimper from the younger boy for his trouble. Greg's fingers were digging hard into Mycroft's shoulders, tugging the navy-blue school blazer Mycroft usually wore impeccably.

But it wasn't enough and as Greg's head was tilted again so Mycroft could really jam his tongue down Greg's throat, Greg dropped his hands to Mycroft's hips and pushed them up and under his blazer.

He felt warm skin through Mycroft's school shirt and couldn't help but dig his fingers in, Mycroft grunting against his mouth and pushing that little bit closer, crushing any space that might have existed between them.

The need for air was becoming strong, but Greg _really_ didn't want to break away- neither did Mycroft. So he slid his tongue against Greg's and coaxed it out, Greg now exploring Mycroft's mouth with less violence than Mycroft had.

As usual the two were so wrapped up in each other that the rest of the world ceased to exist. They completely forgot that they were in the middle of school, that _anyone_ could walk past and see them basically dry-humping each other. So it wasn't until someone cleared their throat and tapped Mycroft on the shoulder that the two broke apart.

Faces flushed and breathing erratic, Mycroft turned slowly and Greg blinked with lust-darkened eyes.

Mr Jambrook was standing in the walkway with a faint smile of amusement on his face. He watched as first Mycroft- and then Greg- turned a vivid shade of red and leapt away from each other. Greg's head slammed into the lockers and he groaned, wincing when he rubbed a hand through his hair. Mycroft was rubbing at his lips violently, but that definitely wouldn't take away the swollen red look he was sporting.

'Well _this_ is interesting,' Mr Jambrook commented. 'Though after reading that note a few weeks ago I shouldn't be surprised.'

'M-Mr J-Jambrook,' Mycroft stuttered, backing up even further.

'We were... um... Mycroft was...' Greg tried as he hastily bent to grab his PE book.

'What?' Mr Jambrook asked. 'Giving you a thorough tonsil examination?' Greg blushed even darker, if that were possible, and the teacher chuckled. 'Well, while I'm sure this is _much_ more interesting,' he said, 'you both have class to get to; so go on, shoo.'

He made shooing motions with his hands but Greg and Mycroft remained where they were, mouths falling open and eyes widening in shock.

'W-What?' Greg choked out.

'You're the one stuttering, not me,' Mr Jambrook smiled. 'So... go on, off to class.'

'But... but...' the brunette tried.

'We were... k-kissing...' Mycroft added.

'And...?' Jambrook said with a raised eyebrow. 'You don't think you're the first couple I've caught making out around the school, do you?'

'N-No,' Greg said. 'But we... um...'

'What? You're gay?' Mr Jambrook shrugged. 'So what?'

'You mean you don't care?' Mycroft frowned.

Mr Jambrook chuckled and glanced between them. 'It would be very hypocritical of me to judge you for being gay.'

Greg frowned in confusion but Mycroft's eyebrows went up. 'Really?' he asked. Jambrook nodded. 'I didn't know that,' the genius confessed.

'Yes, well, I don't make a habit of telling students my sexuality unless I'm actually asked,' Jambrook said with a quirked eyebrow. 'Now, go to class, you can snog later.'

The two finally managed to get themselves together and thanked the teacher before practically running away, Jambrook's chuckles following them down the corridor.

Mycroft had politics while Greg was in the hall for PE, so they walked across the quad together in silence before reaching the covered walkway near the lunch hall.

'So...' Greg murmured as they stopped.

'I never would have guessed that Mr Jambrook was gay,' Mycroft mused. Greg rolled his eyes and Mycroft looked at him. 'Sorry.'

'S'fine,' Greg said and smiled slightly. 'Um... I think you were right about being careful at school. We, ah... kinda got carried away there.'

Mycroft snorted. 'Yes, we did.'

'Okay, so... small kisses, right?' Greg said. 'Otherwise we'll end up molesting each other.'

'Oh, but I _so_ enjoy the molesting.' Mycroft sighed. 'Fine, fine.'

Greg chuckled and closed the distance between them. He pressed a very chaste kiss to Mycroft's lips. 'Molest me after school, yeah?'

'Actually my tutor's coming today,' Mycroft admitted. Greg groaned. 'Sorry.'

'So no molesting?' Greg pouted.

'Not until tomorrow morning, I'm afraid,' Mycroft said with a head shake.

Greg groaned again. 'Fine, fine. Molest me a little in the carpark?'

'Your wish is my command,' Mycroft chuckled.

Greg grinned and kissed him again before hiking his bag further up his back. 'M'kay, gotta go. I'll see ya later.'

'Bye,' Mycroft said and waved slightly, watching as Greg jogged towards the hall. He finally shook his head and headed for his own classroom, arriving just over fifteen minutes late.

Ms Buchanan was a stern teacher but she'd always had a soft spot for Mycroft- probably because he never caused fuss and passed everything with excellent marks. She rolled her eyes at his tardiness and Mycroft kept his head down as he took his seat beside Sally.

Sally, as the gossip-loving young woman that she was, instantly took note of his swollen lips and grinned widely. Unfortunately she wasn't the only one- a class full of seventeen to eighteen-year-olds always paid close attention to anyone who turned up late (it was much more interesting than listening to the teacher).

So within three minutes everyone was whispering about Mycroft Holmes' kiss-swollen lips. Mycroft took it all in silence, staring pointedly at his notebook and trying to pay attention to Ms Buchanan. He wondered if Gregory was having similar troubles.

 

{oOo}

 

Dylan wolf-whistled as soon as Joe pointed at Greg's red, swollen lips. The two were in the other PE class run by Mr Jenkins, but sometimes their class and Greg's joined together to do various activities and whatnot. So Joe and Dylan were closest to the door pretending to do some type of exercise, while Dimmock was in the distance bouncing a basketball.

Greg kicked Joe when he made kissing-faces, and Dylan grinned broadly.

'Shut it,' he growled.

'Who you been makin' out with?' Dylan demanded.

Greg hesitated. He didn't want to hide Mycroft from Joe and Dylan. He'd just never really had a reason to tell them that he and Mycroft were... you know, _doing stuff_ together. But now that he and the genius were dating...

'Uh... tell you later,' Greg said.

'We want details!' Joe said, pointing at Greg. 'Well, not _graphic_ details, but you're gonna give us somethin' you sneaky little bitch!'

'Shut up, you wanker,' Greg rolled his eyes. 'Serious, I'll tell you later, alright?'

Before Dylan or Joe could say anything, Miss Latta was storming over. 'Mr Lestrade, what time do you call this?' she demanded.

Dylan and Joe snickered while Greg tried to come up with an excuse.

 

{oOo}

 

After school Joe and Dylan got right into harassing Greg. Dimmock had had a free period last and drove over to St Mary's to pick up Molly, so Greg was alone in trying to fend off his other friends.

He really didn't know how to tell them. " _Hey Joe, Dylan, I'm shagging Mycroft Holmes, have been for over three months_." Greg didn't think that'd go over too well. But what was he supposed to do? Just say it, or describe how Mycroft was actually really cool?

_Damn it, Dimmo_ , he growled to himself as Joe and Dylan continued to demand details. _You're better at this shit than me_. He suddenly caught sight of Mycroft standing by is Jag. _Maybe I should ask Mycroft..._ he mused.

'Greggie!' Joe called. 'You listenin'?'

'Mm,' Greg nodded.

'Greg!' Dylan shouted.

They'd stopped beside Joe's car and Greg said, 'Erm... I just gotta go talk to Mycroft for a second.'

'Mycroft?' Dylan blinked.

'You mean Mycroft _Holmes_?' Joe demanded.

Greg rolled his eyes. 'Duh,' he said before slipping away from them and jogging across the carpark.

Mycroft turned when Greg reached him and said, 'You haven't told your friends, have you?'

'I'm gettin' to it,' Greg groaned. Mycroft chuckled. 'Honestly, how do I tell 'em?'

'Say, "I'm dating Mycroft",' Mycroft suggested.

Greg scowled. 'That ain't helpful.'

'I wasn't trying to be helpful,' Mycroft shrugged, tossing his bag into the backseat of his car. 'I was just telling you the most effective way to tell your friends that we're dating.' He paused. 'Although we could just make out in front them; it worked for Dimmock.'

'Hardy-har,' Greg muttered and leaned against the car. He sighed suddenly. 'I just dunno how they'll react,' he mumbled.

'They know you're gay.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg said, 'but I'm actually _dating_ someone; I actually care about you, Myc. And they don't know the real you; what if they flip out or somethin'?'

'Then they're not worth your friendship,' Mycroft shrugged. 'I know it sounds harsh, but if they can't accept who you want to be with, then you either break up with me to please them, or make them decide if your friendship is worth it.'

'Well thank _you_ , Doctor Phil,' Greg groaned. 'You're no bloody help.'

'Again, I'm not trying to be helpful,' Mycroft replied.

Before Greg could say anything else Sherlock and John had appeared, the two bouncing around like only thirteen-year-olds could.

'Mycroft, we're going to McDonalds!' Sherlock announced.

'Sherlock, you have to _ask_ ,' John tisked and turned to the older Holmes. 'Mycroft, can we _please_ stop at McDonalds before going home?'

'Are you coing back to the manor?' Mycroft asked. When John nodded Mycroft checked his watch. 'My tutor's due in two hours... yes, we have time.'

'YES!' Sherlock shouted. 'I want a Happy Meal.'

'A Happy Meal?' Greg chuckled. 'Aren't you a little old for that?'

Sherlock turned his piercing blue eyes on the older teen and huffed out, 'I'm running an experiment on the toys they offer, _Gregory_. Of course I can't expect your crass mind to understand exactly what I'm hoping to accomplish.'

'Sherlock,' John groaned, shaking his head.

'Oi, I'm not stupid,' Greg growled.

Sherlock cocked his head. 'Huh, you actually understood that.'

'Crass means stupid, I bloody well know!' Greg snapped.

'Sherlock, apologise,' Mycroft ordered.

'But-'

' _Now_.'

Sherlock sighed loudly and turned to face Greg. 'I. Am. _Sorry_ ,' he spat out. It was clear he didn't mean it, but the simple fact that he'd actually listened to Mycroft and _tried_ was enough for Greg.

'Apology accepted,' Greg grinned. He reached out and grabbed Sherlock's cheek. 'Aww, such a cutie!'

'Fuck off!' Sherlock shouted and scrambled away. He hid behind John and rubbed his cheek, the other three chuckling at him. 'Mycroft!' he whined.

'Get in the car, you little brat,' Mycroft said. He ushered the two younger teens into the back and turned to face Greg. 'So... I'll see you tomorrow?'

Greg nodded and leaned forward, pecking Mycroft quickly on the lips. 'Seeya then.'

Mycroft blushed brightly and looked down. 'Um...' he said hesitently, 'would you maybe, want to come to McDonalds with me?'

Greg blinked. 'Really?'

'I can follow you home so you can drop your bike off, then drive you back home after McDonalds.'

'Are... you sure?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded and blushed brighter. 'I want to spend more time with you.'

Sherlock was making gagging noises and John swatted him over the head- not that that helped. Greg just grinned and nodded, quickly kissing Mycroft on the lips.

'I'll meet you at mine, yeah?'

Mycroft nodded and climbed into his car, Sherlock and John snickering and making kissing noises. Dylan and Joe were standing beside the Joe's car, their mouths hanging open after witnessing Greg not once, but _twice_ kissing Mycroft on the lips.

Greg didn't notice- he was too excited about spending more time with Mycroft- and grabbed his helmet. 'I gotta go, I'll see you later,' he said before turning his bike on and tugging his helmet over his head.

Dylan and Joe just nodded dumbly while Greg pulled out of the carpark, Mycroft following in his Jag. Joe turned to Dylan and said, 'What. The. _Fuck_?'

Dylan had _no_ idea what to say.

 

{oOo}

 

Sherlock looked between Mycroft and Greg and felt half happy, half nauseous; Greg kept flicking glances to Mycroft when he thought no one was looking, and his fingers were twitching like he wanted to reach out and touch Mycroft. Sherlock rolled his eyes and John nudged him.

Choosing to ignore his best friend, Sherlock asked, 'Es-tu sûr de vouloir sortir avec Lestrade?'

[' _Are you sure you want to date Lestrade_?']

As the only other person in the car who spoke French, Mycroft replied. 'Bien sûr que j'en suis sûr.'

[' _Of course I'm sure_.']

'Peut-être que c'est que tu ne fais que le désirer?' Sherlock suggested.

[' _Maybe it's just lust_.']

'Non, je l'aime,' Mycroft said.

[' _No, I like him_.']

Sherlock snorted. 'Qu'est ce qui le rend si spécial?' he asked. 'Pourquoi lui?'

[' _What makes him so special? Why him_?']

'Il y'a une multitude de raisons,' Mycroft finally said.

[' _There are many reasons_.']

'Donne m'en une…' Sherlock asked.

[' _Like what_?']

'Pourquoi tant d'insistance?'

[' _Why do you want to know_?']

The curly-haired teen huffed in frustration. 'Je veux juste savoir. Et ne dis pas que parce que c'est qu'il est bon au lit!'

[' _Just tell me! And don't you dare say anything about his skills in bed_!']

Mycroft couldn't help chuckling, but decided to give his brother an honest answer. 'C'est juste parce que c'est lui, Sherlock,' he said. 'Il est amusant, intelligent, courageux… il me fait rire, il se soucie de moi, il est intéressant. Je crois que je ne peux pas te dire exactement pourquoi je l'aime.'

[' _It's just him, Sherlock. He's... funny, smart, brave... he makes me smile and laugh. He cares about me, he's interesting. I can't honestly pinpoint exactly what it is about him that I like_.']

Sherlock scowled. 'T'es sérieux?'

[' _Are you serious_?']

'Oui,' Mycroft said.

[' _Yes_.']

Sherlock wet his lips slowly and glanced at Greg, who was trying not to stare at them. 'Vraiment?' he asked.

[' _Honest_?']

'Oui,' Mycroft repeated.

[' _Yes_.']

'C'est pas juste parce qu'il est sexy et qu'il te touche?'

[' _And it's not just because he's hot and touches you?_ ']

Mycroft smiled slowly. 'Non, mais il y'a un peu de ça,' he said. 'Et puis… pourquoi tant de question... il te plait bien...?'

[' _No, but that does help,' he said. 'Why, are you interested in him?_ ']

'NON!' Sherlock practically shrieked, making John jolt and Greg glance over the seat at him. 'Non, Lestrade ne m'intéresse pas tant que ça.'

[' _NO! No, I am so not interested in Lestrade!_ ']

'Okay, I heard my name,' Greg butted in, the sound of English words breaking Mycroft from the conversation with his brother. 'Are you talking about me?' the brunette asked.

'Would it help if I lied and said no?' Mycroft asked.

Greg chuckled. 'I don't care if you're talking about me,' he shrugged.

'Isn't Lestrade a French name?' Sherlock demanded in English. 'You should be able to speak French.'

Greg grinned slyly. 'Who says I don't?'

That made Mycroft jolt and he had turned to stare at Greg, who was picking at his nails. 'Excuse me?' he asked.

Greg smirked. 'No one ever asked if I spoke another language,' he shrugged.

'You speak French?' Sherlock asked.

Greg twisted in his seat to look over at the younger boy. 'En es-tu certain Sherlock?' he said in perfect French. 'Je parle pas français peut-être?'

[' _I don't know, Sherlock._ Do _I speak French?_ ']

Sherlock's mouth dropped open and Mycroft gaped openly as he stared at the road. John burst into laughter and had to hold his stomach while Greg snickered.

'Oh God, that's hilarious,' John wheezed.

'You never told me you speak French,' Mycroft huffed.

'You never asked,' Greg shrugged, turning back to face the windscreen.

'So you understood everything?' Sherlock asked after he remembered how to speak.

'Oui,' Greg said in French. 'Et j'apprécie que tu te fasses du souci pour Mycroft mais je crois que je ferais de mon mieux pour ne jamais le blesser.' He reached out and touched Mycroft's arm softly. 'Parce que je tiens trop à lui.'

[' _Yes. And I appreciate you worrying over Mycroft, but I'll do my best not to hurt him. I care too much._ ']

'Si jamais tu fais du mal à mon frère, je te tue,' Sherlock promised.

[' _If you hurt my brother I will kill you._ ']

'Je n'en doute pas,' Greg replied.

[' _I don't doubt you._ ']

Sherlock nodded in satisfaction and sat back down, folding his arms across his seat.

There were a few minutes of silence before John cleared his throat. 'So...' the short boy said, 'I'm the only one who's completely lost.'

Mycroft chuckled and Greg grinned, while Sherlock asked, 'Who taught you French?'

'Hello, my last name's Lestrade,' Greg said. 'My mum's dad was French; grew up there, married an English girl. They moved to London when my grandma fell pregnant with Mum. When Mum was fifteen they died in a car accident, but my grandpa taught my mum French, and she taught me.'

'Unbelievable,' Mycroft muttered. 'We could have held entire conversations in French if you'd told me.'

'Well we can now,' Greg said in English before easily slipping into French. 'Ça te tente de laisser les gamins là et de se faire une partie de jambes en l'air du tonnerre sur la banquette arrière?'

[' _What's say we ditch the kiddies and have wild, passionate sex in the backseat?_ ']

'Oi, I can still understand you!' Sherlock shouted while Mycroft blushed brightly. 'Wankers,' Sherlock muttered.

Greg just snickered.


	44. Explosive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Explosive by Bond
> 
> **Warnings:** Homophobic language and violence
> 
> **Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay, but I caught a really bad cold and I've been out of it for a few days. In better news, I can tell you that Mycroft and Greg get it on in chapter 48, which I'm currently writing. So only four more chapters, my lovelies :) Also, thank you all so much for all your comments and I'm sorry I haven't replied to them but as I said, I've been sick. I appreciate all of them, believe me :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

In hindsight, Greg should have realised that the whole "not telling Joe and Dylan about Mycroft" would blow up in his face. He really had meant to tell them... okay, maybe he was hoping someone _else_ would tell them. He hung out with Mycroft every day- people had seen them kiss _and_ hold hands! So Joe and Dylan not knowing totally wasn't Greg's fault.

Punching Dylan in the face... yeah, that was mostly Greg's fault. But it was a justified beating!

Greg managed to make it to Wednesday without Joe and Dylan finding out... well, they'd already _found out_ , but they didn't know what to make of Greg suddenly kissing Mycroft in the carpark. They also didn't know what to make of the rumours suddenly floating around Baker Street Academy.

It seemed Greg and Mycroft had finally been noticed. At least a dozen people had seen them spending time together, giggling, holding hands, and yes, _kissing_. Sally Donovan was having the time of her life; telling everyone who'd listen- which was basically the entire student body- that Gregory Lestrade, local badboy, and Mycroft Holmes, local genius, were in fact dating and had been for three months.

Nobody mentioned it to either boy. Greg had been in various fights over the years when people questioned his sexuality or what he'd done at a party over the weekend. And Mycroft... well people were just plain scared of him.

There was also the fact that Sherlock Holmes shouted abuse at anyone he heard discussing his brother. At least seven times a day John Watson had to drag the taller teen away from whatever group had been talking about Mycroft, the genius kicking and screaming the entire time.

Greg really, _really_ should have realised that Joe and Dylan knew... but he was so caught up in just being with Mycroft that it was pushed to the back of his mind. All he cared about was the fact that his mates hadn't asked him any more questions; he still didn't know how to tell them.

Shouting it at them after knocking Dylan to the ground probably wasn't the best way...

 

{oOo}

 

After two days the rumours were still circulating but Mycroft was quite used to the various looks and whispers that were thrown his way as he walked through the school. He really didn't care what anyone thought of him.

Life was good; he was dating Gregory, he and Dimmock had had some proper conversations about university and other subjects, and he and Greg planned to go to the movies Saturday with Dimmock and Molly as a kind of "double date". Greg still cringed at the words but agreed after Molly practically squealed over the phone.

Mycroft and Greg had decided to spend lunch with Dimmock, BJ, and Sally Donovan; the latter two wanted to hear all the juicy details- well, that was Sally- on exactly when, where, and how Greg and Mycroft had started dating.

Mycroft was strolling down the walkway to the right of the quad when he was suddenly pushed into the lockers to his left. He grunted both in surprise and pain when his shoulder came into contact with a padlock. Wincing slightly, Mycroft turned to see who'd pushed him-

\- and came face to face with Dylan Saunders and Joe Wright.

'Can I help you?' Mycroft asked as both boys snickered.

'Yeah, you can,' Dylan said. 'Stay away from our mate; got that, fag?'

Mycroft glared at him but his voice was polite. 'Pardon?'

'Greg,' Joe said. 'We've seen you talking to him at lunch, and there's heaps of shit goin' 'round about you two. Stay away, our mate wants nothin' to do with you, got it?'

A few people had stopped to see what was going on, not that Joe and Dylan cared. Mycroft tried to ignore them as he faced the two bigger teenagers.

'I think Gregory can choose who he associates with,' Mycroft said calmly. 'He doesn't need you fighting for him.'

Joe rolled his eyes and Dylan said, 'Greg's a nice bloke, alright? He ain't gonna tell you to back off. But we will.' He moved closer, Mycroft finding himself pinned to the lockers. 'Leave him the fuck alone, faggot!'

He slammed Mycroft into the lockers again and Mycroft choked back a shout of pain as his back hit another lock.

'Oi!'

All three turned to see Greg Lestrade storming down the corridor with Dimmock and Sally Donovan behind him.

 

{oOo}

 

'I can't believe it,' Sally mused as she walked between Dimmock and Greg.

Greg scoffed. 'Like hell you can't,' he said.

'Yeah, you're the one behind the rumour that Greg and Mikey were caught shagging behind the bike shed,' Dimmock said.

'Yeah, well... I had a reliable source,' Sally said.

'Who, Anthea?' Greg asked. 'She doesn't even go here.'

'Well she said she saw it and I believe her,' Sally sniffed.

'Only 'cause you're shaggin' here,' Greg muttered.

'And _you_ are shaggin' Mikey Holmes,' Sally grinned.

' _Dating_ ,' Greg corrected.

'The school's two biggest whores are dating,' Sally mused yet again.

'I'm wounded, Sal,' Greg fake-pouted, clutching his chest.

'Yeah, where do you get off calling sweet, innocent Gregory a whore?' Dimmock demanded.

Sally cracked up laughing and the two boys grinned as they walked around the corner.

'Anyway,' Sally said, 'I'm pretty sure Mikey has chemistry, so he should be-'

She cut herself off when they came into view of Dylan and Joe standing before Mycroft, who was pinned to the lockers. Dimmock glanced at Greg, whose face was darkening quickly.

And then Dylan slammed Mycroft into the lockers and Mycroft gasped in pain.

'Oi!' Greg shouted, catching everyone's attention. A fair few people turned as Greg stalked towards the group.

'Greg,' Dylan smiled.

'What the fuck are you doing?' Greg demanded as he reached them. He pushed his two friends back and they stumbled, Greg paying them no attention as he turned to his boyfriend. 'You alright?'

'I've had worse,' Mycroft said, reaching to rub his back.

Greg turned back to Joe and Dylan. 'What the fuck are you doing?' he demanded again.

'What?' Joe said.

'We're just teachin' Holmes here who he can and can't talk to,' Dylan added.

Greg frowned. 'What the fuck are you on about?'

'He's a fuckin' fag,' Dylan said, not noticing the anger rush across Greg's face. 'He's tryin' to seem cooler by hangin' 'round you, Greg, and you're too nice to tell 'im to fuck off.'

'What'd you call him?' Greg demanded. When Dylan and Joe remained silent, Greg shouted, 'What did you call him?!'

'A fuckin' fag,' Dylan said, sneering at Mycroft. 'He's a goddamn creepy little fuckin' fairy!'

'Greg!' Mycroft shouted as Greg swung, fist slamming into Dylan's jaw and sending him reeling back. He stumbled into Joe but it was Greg who hauled him up, punching him again in the stomach and slamming him into the brick pillar opposite the lockers.

'How dare you!' Greg shouted as more people assembled, hoping for a fight. 'His sexuality isn't a fucking joke, Dylan!'

'What the fuck?' Dylan demanded, rubbing his face.

'Leave Mycroft alone, got that, cunt?' Greg demanded.

Dylan glared at him as Joe and Dimmock both stepped forward, grabbing a teenager each.

'Why?' Dylan demanded as Dimmock pulled Greg away. 'He's a fucking prick-'

Dimmock wasn't fast enough and Greg punched Dylan again. An _ooh_ went through the students before Dylan punched Greg back, catching him in the eye and making him stumble.

All Greg saw was red and he leapt at his _former_ -friend, tackling him to the ground and kneeing him in the stomach.

'You fucking... prick!' Greg shouted as the two grappled and punched each other. 'Leave Mycroft... the fuck... _alone_!'

Greg and Dylan were rolling across the concrete, Dimmock and Joe trying to break them up, Mycroft and Sally both watching with wide eyes as everyone else cheered.

And then Mr Jambrook, Mr Douglas, and Mrs Mallen appeared, shouting and making everyone step back. With Dimmock's help, Jambrook wrenched Greg to his feet, the teenager with a blackening eye and a busted lip. Dylan was worse off and stumbled as Mr Douglas and Joe picked him up.

'What's going on here?' Jambrook demanded.

'Stay the fuck away from my boyfriend, you fucking prick!' Greg shouted, making everyone stare at him. 'If you touch Mycroft again I'll fucking kill you!'

'Greg, calm down!' Dimmock snapped, wrapping his arms around his best friend. Greg continued to shout and hurl abuse, kicking and screaming as Dimmock practically carried him away.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg was still swearing and cursing when he was thrown into the Headmaster's office, Dimmock dumping him in a seat.

'Sit down!' Mr Jambrook ordered when Greg tried to get up.

Greg scowled and slumped in his seat, leg jiggling and fingers curled into fists.

'What's the meaning of this?' the head teacher- Mr Rourke- asked as he stepped into the office.

'Lestrade was fighting with...' Jambrook trailed off and looked at Greg, who scowled at him.

'Dylan Saunders,' Dimmock supplied.

'He's a fuckin' prick,' Greg grunted.

'Enough!' Jambrook shouted before quickly telling the Headmaster what he'd seen.

'Mr Lestrade, is there a reason you decided to start a fight in the middle of school?' Mr Rourke demanded.

'Yeah, there is,' Greg snapped, ignoring the blood trickling down his chin. 'Dylan started on Mycroft, so I started on him.'

Mr Rourke raised an eyebrow. 'Mycroft Holmes?'

'How many other Mycroft's do you know?' Greg demanded.

'The attitude isn't helping, Gregory,' Mr Rourke said, dragging his phone across the desk. 'Is your mother at home or the hospital?'

Greg folded his arms and muttered, 'Home.'

'Michael, you can go,' Mr Jambrook told Dimmock, who threw one last look at Greg before leaving.

'Anthony, go find out how the other boy- Saunders- is doing,' Mr Rourke said as he dialled Greg's mum.

Mr Jambrook nodded and the office was suddenly silent, Greg glaring at the desk, Mr Rourke watching him.

'Ms Lestrade, hello, this is Frank Rourke from Baker Street Academy,' Mr Rourke said. 'Yes, Greg's Headmaster,' he nodded, glancing at Greg again. 'Your son got into a fist fight with a fellow student and I need you to come down and see me, if that's possible.' He paused as he listened to Maggie, and Greg's stomach twisted when he imagined what his mum would do to him. 'Of course, I'll see you in twenty minutes,' Mr Rourke said before hanging up.

 

{oOo}

 

When Maggie got to the head teacher's office Greg was still slouched in his seat with a tissue pressed to his lip, an ice-pack over his left eye. He avoided eye contact and she sighed as she greeted the Headmaster.

'Good afternoon, Ms Lestrade,' Mr Rourke said, shaking her hand.

'Mr Rourke,' Maggie nodded, taking the seat beside Greg. 'So what happened?'

Mr Rourke looked at Greg, who scowled. 'Gregory was fighting another student, a Dylan Saunders,' Mr Rourke explained.

'Dylan?' Maggie frowned. 'But Dylan's your friend, Greg.'

'Not anymore,' Greg muttered.

'What exactly happened?' Mr Rourke asked.

Greg shifted the ice-pack and pulled the tissue away. 'I was goin' to meet Mycroft for lunch, and Dylan and Joe had him bailed up against the lockers. They were shovin' him around-' Maggie sighed, seeing where it was going, '- so I told 'em to back off,' Greg continued. 'Dylan called Mycroft a fag so I punched him.'

'Gregory,' Maggie sighed, rubbing her eyes.

'Fighting isn't the answer,' Mr Rourke said.

'He called him a fag and a fuckin' fairy!' Greg shouted. 'No one talks to my boyfriend like that!'

Mr Rourke jolted in his seat. 'Boyfriend?'

Greg slouched in his own, pressing the ice-pack back to his eye. 'Mycroft's my boyfriend,' he mumbled.

Mr Rourke continued to stare at him in surprise before sighing. 'I see. Well, it's unfortunate that Mr Saunders used that language with Mycroft, but that doesn't give you the right to hit him, Gregory.'

'He hit me too!'

'That's not the point,' Mr Rourke said. 'You don't sort out your problems with your fists, young man.'

Greg scowled and slouched back.

'How much trouble is he in?' Maggie asked.

'Well, this isn't his first fight,' Mr Rourke said, glancing over Greg's record- he'd pulled up the file on his computer after calling Maggie. 'But it's his first in a few months. So, I think a three day suspension for fighting, and if he does anything else he'll face a much longer suspension, or expulsion.'

'What?' Greg shouted. 'What about Dylan?'

'Don't raise your voice in my office, Mr Lestrade,' Mr Rourke said coolly. 'Mr Saunders will be facing the same punishment as you, okay?' Greg grunted and leaned back. 'Now, your suspension will start tomorrow,' the principal continued, 'but I think you'd best get home now.'

Maggie stood and shook the man's hand again, thanking him and apologising. Greg grabbed his backpack and shouldered it on, scowling at the head teacher as he followed his mum. He dumped the ice-pack at the front desk and pocketed the bloody tissue.

Maggie was silent as they left the office and walked to Greg's locker. He grabbed his helmet and leather jacket before the two headed for the carpark. When they reached Maggie's car she sighed, turning to face her son. 'Fighting, Gregory?'

'Dylan was calling Mycroft a fag and pushed him around,' Greg said. 'I told him to back off and he kept goin', so I hit him.' He paused, licking his broken lip. 'I didn't mean to, I was just so angry,' he mumbled. 'No one has any right to tease someone 'bout their sexuality. And Mycroft's my boyfriend-'

'He can fight his own battles, Greg,' Maggie cut in.

'Yeah, I know,' Greg said, 'but he won't, okay? He woulda let Dyl and Joe say whatever the fuck they wanted. And they wouldn't have stopped, they coulda really hurt him, Mum. Now they won't touch him- no one will.'

'Greg!'

Greg and Maggie turned to see Mycroft hurrying towards them. The auburn-haired teen stopped before them, breathing slightly laboured, and Greg gulped. Mycroft wasn't gonna be mad, was he? Greg had basically just outed them and then got into a fist fight. Mycroft... wasn't angry, right?

Mycroft reached up and cupped Greg's face, thumb brushing over the darkening skin under his left eye. 'Are you okay?' Mycroft asked softly.

'Yeah, I've had worse,' Greg said nervously, Maggie watching. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm fine, they didn't really hurt me,' Mycroft said.

'I'm sorry,' Greg mumbled. 'They shouldn't have said all that, and I-'

Greg was cut off when Mycroft pressed their lips together, kissing him softly. When they broke apart Greg blushed brightly, aware that his mum was still watching.

'It's okay, Gregory,' Mycroft said softly. 'I would have done the same thing.'

'Yeah?'

Mycroft nodded before asking, 'How much trouble did you get into?'

'Three day suspension-' Greg began.

'Which starts tomorrow,' Maggie cut in, 'but he's been sent home today, too. Say your goodbyes, boys.'

Greg sighed but turned back, kissing Mycroft again.

'I'll see you later,' Mycroft said before catching Maggie shaking her head. 'Um... I'll call you?' he tried.

'Good answer,' Maggie said. 'Come on, Greg, I want you leaving before me.'

Greg kissed Mycroft one last time and squeezed his hand before Mycroft headed back to school. Greg watched him go but tore his eyes away when Maggie nudged him.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg wasn't really in trouble with his mum. Maggie knew why he'd gotten into the fight- how could he _not_ defend his boyfriend?- but he still wasn't allowed out of the house those three days (well only Thursday because he had work that afternoon) and Mycroft and Dimmock weren't allowed to come over.

Oh, and Greg had to cook.

Though they ate a lot of takeout, Maggie was a good cook; she could make whatever you wanted as long as it wasn't too over-the-top. _Greg_ was a great cook; pasta, steak, chicken, stir-fry, sushi, cake, whatever you wanted, Greg could make. There was just something about his brain that could work out and absorb exactly what needed to be to get the food tasting amazing.

So Greg was on chef duty; pancakes, waffles, or toast, fried tomatoes, sausage and hashbrowns for breakfast; sandwiches, salad, or cold pasta for lunch; and lasagne, spaghetti, steak, chicken, or home-made pizza for dinner, _with_ dessert.

Greg didn't mind, really. Mycroft had taught him how to complete his homework as quickly as possible so by five that afternoon he was finished with what he'd received before getting suspended. He rode to Tesco to get the ingredients for dinner, whipped up the cake and stuck it in the oven, left the steaks to marinate in the fridge, and went to clean his room.

It was the most Greg had got done in the past month and he whistled along to his iPod as he cooked the steak and simultaneously tossed a salad, cooked some rice, and made sure the cake had enough icing.

When Greg prepared the table and got all the food down, Maggie walked into the kitchen and smiled.

'You should really consider becoming a chef,' she said.

Greg rolled his eyes; they'd had this conversation _hundreds_ of times. 'I don't like cooking that much,' Greg shrugged as he sat. 'It's fun, yeah, but... nah, can't see myself doin' it all the time.'

'So what _do_ you want to do?' Maggie asked, pouring coke for them both.

'Um...' Greg hummed. 'Dunno yet. But I'm actually considering going to uni,' he admitted.

Maggie almost dropped the bottle and set it down roughly. 'What?' she gaped.

'Well...' Greg blushed slightly and looked down at his plate. 'I know Mycroft wants to go to university- he's mentioned Oxford and Cambridge,' Greg said, 'and... well, I wanna be good enough for him.'

'Oh, Gregory,' Maggie sighed. 'Don't go to university just because your boyfriend is.'

'No, it's not like that,' Greg said hastily. 'I know Mycroft doesn't care if I go or don't, and I'd never go just because he wanted me to. But I don't want to be with him and be working some crappy job while I try to figure out what I want. I want to... you know, study something I actually care about and love while he does the same thing.'

He blushed darkly and looked back down at his food, fork pushing at the rice.

'I like studying,' he mumbled, 'and Mycroft's made me see how fun it is, and how I can actually do it. I... I'm smarter than I thought I was, and I kinda owe it to Mycroft _and_ you to do the best I can.'

'Gregory,' Maggie smiled. She reached across the table and squeezed her son's arm. 'I'll be proud of you no matter what you do; get some crappy job while you try to succeed as a musician, work for MI6 being James Bond, or study at university and try to make a career for yourself. Whatever _you_ want to be do, I'll support you.'

'Yeah?' Greg asked.

'Yes,' Maggie nodded.

'Well... I dunno what I wanna study,' Greg admitted. 'But I'm considering applying to some universities.'

'Whatever you want to do,' Maggie smiled.

'Cool,' Greg beamed. 'Thanks, Mum.'

'Thank _you_ for dinner,' Maggie said as they got back to eating. 'Maybe next time you'll cook without bashing one of your mates beforehand.'

'Aah, maybe,' Greg chuckled.

Maggie looked up at him as the two cut into their steak. 'Why don't you invite Mycroft to dinner this Friday?' she asked.

'What?'

'He's had dinner here before, but not as your boyfriend,' Maggie shrugged. 'And I figured you already miss him, come Friday you'll be frothing at the mouth.'

'Ha ha, you're bloody awesome, Mum,' Greg rolled his eyes. 'Serious, move from bein' a nurse to a comedian; you'd make a _tonne_ of- oi!'

Maggie had swiped him over the back of the head and chuckled as Greg scowled at her.

'Not funny.'

'Very funny,' Maggie corrected. 'Shut up and eat your dinner.'

'Yes ma'am,' Greg saluted.

Maggie just laughed.

 

{oOo}

 

After dinner Greg retreated to his room to watch some episodes of House he'd downloaded on iTunes while his mum was watching her Gilmore Girls DVDs. Greg didn't mind the show- some of the stuff they did was actually really funny- but he wasn't in the mood for the whole "Lorelai and Rory argue about something stupid and then make up and everything's hunky-dory".

'Is hunky-dory a word?' Greg mused to himself as he changed into pyjamas. He jumped onto his bed and quickly turned his laptop on, tapping at the case while he waited for it to load.

He'd just entered his password and was waiting somewhat patiently for all the Apple crap to stop popping up when there was a soft tap on his window. Greg jolted before jumping out of bed and he grinned broadly when he saw Mycroft.

Greg pushed his bedroom window open and Mycroft climbed in quickly and quietly. When he stood straight Greg tugged him in for a kiss. 'What are you doing here?'

'Can't I climb through my boyfriend's bedroom at nine pm?' Mycroft questioned.

Greg chuckled and said, 'Yeah, sure.'

'Good.' Mycroft kissed him again before pulling out his cigarettes.

Greg pushed his chair under his bedroom door and took the cigarette Mycroft offered him. They lit up and sat on Greg's desk, making sure their smoke went through the window.

'How much trouble are you in with your mother?' Mycroft asked.

'Not much,' Greg said. 'I'm mostly on cooking and cleaning duty, and I can't go outside except for my shift at Tesco tomorrow afternoon. Mum knows why I got into the fight, and while she doesn't like it, she gets that I had to stand up for you. And, um...' Greg added a little hesitantly, 'I know you can stand up for yourself, but I just got so angry.'

'It's okay, Greg,' Mycroft reassured the brunette. 'I would have done the same if someone had said those things to you.'

'Yeah?' Greg had asked Mycroft earlier, true, but he just wanted to make sure. Mycroft nodded and Greg said, 'Well I _am_ a bit sorry... uh, mostly about outing us like that, not about punching Dylan in the face.' He scowled and touched his broken lip. 'Bastard deserved more than that.'

'Thank you for standing up for me,' Mycroft smiled.

'No worries,' Greg said. 'Erm... how did everyone at school react?'

'Well,' Mycroft said as he blew smoke above his head, 'I was suddenly the centre of attention as everyone demanded to know if you were telling the truth. Finally just to shut them up I shouted in the middle of English Lit that yes, we were dating, and had been for a while. Sally and Benjamin just said, "Duh", and Mr Jambrook thanked me for the update and told me to sit down.'

Greg chuckled. 'Well, Jambrook already knew we were dating.'

'True,' Mycroft nodded. 'I had a few people congratulating me; Andrew Freen, Jonathan Ralling, a few boys from Sherlock's year. And then there were others warning me about your reputation. As I'm not blind or deaf, I told them that of course I knew about you sleeping around.'

Greg chuckled.

'I told them it wasn't any of their business,' Mycroft admitted.

'Well it ain't.'

'Isn't,' Mycroft corrected.

Greg grinned. 'Mm, your perfect vocabulary is _really_ a turn on, did ya know that?'

'Don't be stupid,' Mycroft said with an eye-roll.

'Oh yeah, and insults,' Greg nodded, ' _definitely_ gets my blood boiling.'

'Gregory,' Mycroft tisked.

Greg chuckled and kissed him softly before they both stubbed their cigarettes out, Greg hiding the evidence. 'Um...' he hesitated, but forged ahead when Mycroft looked at him, 'you staying the night?'

'I'd love to,' Mycroft said. 'Your mother won't come in, will she?'

'Nah, got everything locked up tight,' Greg said and gestured to the chair wedged beneath the door handle.

Mycroft smiled and accepted the shirt Greg offered him as well as a pair of socks. The two climbed into bed together and settled down, Greg turning off his laptop. After all, Mycroft was a _lot_ more interesting than any video.

It didn't take long for the two to start kissing and touching each other. How could Greg possibly stop when Mycroft's hands grabbed his arse like that? And Greg kept whimpering and nibbling on Mycroft's neck- of course Mycroft was going to rut against him.

The two made out and groped each other like the horny teenagers they were for a good forty minutes before they were interrupted. The knock on the door scared the crap out of both of them and Mycroft immediately jumped back, almost tumbling off the bed in his haste to get away from his boyfriend.

Greg tugged his shirt back down and scrubbed at his lips as he called a hoarse, 'Y-Yeah?'

'I'm going to bed,' Maggie called through the door.

'Um... 'kay,' Greg said. 'Night.'

'Night, honey,' Maggie said. There was a pause before, 'Night, Mycroft.'

Greg's mouth dropped open and Mycroft stared at his boyfriend. Slowly Mycroft wet his lips and gave a hesitant, 'N-Night.'

'You two keep it down and don't stay up too late,' Maggie said. They heard her footsteps, followed by her bedroom door closing down the hall.

Mycroft looked at Greg, who said, 'My mum's a criminal mastermind.' Mycroft chuckled. 'Um... you still stayin'?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded and re-arranged his pyjamas. Greg pulled the blankets back and Mycroft climbed in, holding his arms out. Greg grinned and snuggled into him, the two soon settling down for the night.


	45. When I Come Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** When I Come Around by Green Day
> 
>  **Author's Note:** Oh I am such a big, big, _big _liar. So... what happened was, I added another scene to one of the earlier chapters I'd written... and it got too big, so I had to split the chapter in two.__
> 
> __Long story short, the big sex scene is now chapter 49. Yes, I know; I'm a liar. I promised you it'd be chapter 48 and I'm making you wait longer. In my defence, chapter 49 is just a big sex-party, and there's even more sex in chapter 50 so... forgive me._ _
> 
> __Also, there's awesome fanart for this story on tumblr. Check out http://sashkash.tumblr.com and scroll down a little, you'll find the art I'm talking about. It's awesome._ _
> 
> __Anywho, enjoy :)_ _
> 
> __{Dreamer}_ _

Greg woke with a groan and peeled his eyes open. It was still a bit dark outside, the sun only just beginning to rise, and Greg shivered as he groped for the blankets, which had fallen down to his waist. Looking around his bedroom, Greg just caught sight of the alarm clock.

'Five?' he groaned.

'Sorry,' came Mycroft's voice from his right. Greg sat up slowly and saw Mycroft pulling on the jeans, shirt, and jacket he'd worn the night before. 'I was just leaving,' Mycroft said.

'Why so early?' Greg asked.

'My mother will be up at six-thirty,' Mycroft explained.

He sat on Greg's bed to pull his socks and shoes on. 'Yeah, but that's over an hour away,' Greg said. 'You don't have time for breakfast?' The younger boy looked up at him. 'Come on, Myc; I'm not gonna see you in school, remember?'

'Yes, I remember,' Mycroft nodded. He finished tying his laces and said, 'Very well, you can make me breakfast.'

'Oh I'm making it, am I?' Greg asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft smiled.

'M'kay,' Greg said and leaned over to kiss him softly. 'I'll make pancakes, we got some pre-made batter. Just let me throw somethin' warm on.'

Mycroft waited in silence while Greg tugged on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a baggy jumper. After a quick trip to the bathroom he joined Mycroft in the kitchen, the red-head sitting as his boyfriend grabbed the various things he'd need to make breakfast.

'There's juice and stuff in the fridge,' Greg said over his shoulder.

'Do you have coffee?' Mycroft asked.

'Yeah, just gotta turn the machine on,' Greg said and jerked his elbow to his right. Mycroft spotted the small red coffee machine and set about making coffee. 'I'll have one, thanks,' Greg smiled.

'Yes, my dear.'

Greg chuckled and asked, 'Did you sleep well?'

Mycroft nodded. 'Though your bed is a lot smaller than mine, and there are two of us sharing it, I find I sleep better with you.'

Greg smiled brightly. 'Yeah, me too,' he admitted. 'I like having you in my bed.'

'Of course you do.'

Both boys jumped at Maggie's words and Greg nearly sent the frying pan flying. He grabbed onto it and set it back on the stove, blushing brightly when Maggie moved past him to reach the coffee machine.

'Mum, what are you doing up?' he asked quickly.

'I slept enough,' Maggie shrugged. 'I'm going to read my new Matthew Reilly book, maybe watch some TV, and have a nap around midday.'

She paused and glanced over at Greg, who was staring pointedly at the pancakes he was making. Mycroft was hovering at the other end of the kitchen, looking ready to run.

'I might even ground my son for once again sneaking his boyfriend in,' she concluded.

'Um...' Greg murmured, 'I... I d-didn't...'

'What?' Maggie asked. 'You didn't sneak your boyfriend in?'

'Uh... n-not exactly,' Greg said. 'Mycroft's the one who climbed through my window!'

He turned and pointed at his boyfriend, who blushed vividly when Maggie smiled at him.

'You didn't exactly kick me out,' Mycroft huffed.

'I totally tried!' Greg argued. 'I said, "No, Mycroft, stop; my mum said no, so please put your clothes back on!"'

'You liar!' Mycroft growled even while he turned pink.

Greg poked his tongue out and Maggie chuckled. 'Alright, alright,' she said and filled three cups with coffee. 'Let's not blame each other, okay? You're both at fault.'

'What?' Greg demanded.

'Don't fight me, Gregory,' Maggie warned. Greg huffed but remained silent as he flipped the first two pancakes onto a plate. 'Next time, Mycroft, you call Greg and he asks me, understand?' Maggie said.

The red-head nodded and said, 'I'm sorry.'

'No harm done,' Maggie smiled. She sat at the table and yawned, brushing hair from her face. 'I knew you were here anyway and I didn't kick you out.'

'I just wanted Gregory to know that I wasn't angry,' Mycroft admitted.

'It's okay, love,' Maggie smiled at the young man. 'You're always welcome here.'

Mycroft smiled hesitantly and joined her at the table with his own coffee. 'Thank you.'

Mycroft and Maggie chatted softly about school work, the hospital, and various other things while Greg cooked breakfast. Finally he dished up three plates of pancakes and Maggie set butter, syrup, jam, and a can of whipped cream down on the table. Mycroft raised an eyebrow when he saw Greg smother his pancakes in all the ingredients.

'Usually people only choose one,' he said.

'Where's the fun in that?' Greg asked. He used his fork to cut his pancakes and shoved a fork-full into his mouth, grinning widely as he chewed.

Mycroft just chuckled and spread a small amount of jam over his own pancakes, while Maggie ate hers with butter.

'You said you were reading Matthew Reilly's new book?' Mycroft asked suddenly.

Greg looked up as Maggie said, 'Yes. Scarecrow and the Army of Thieves. I'm up to chapter five.'

'It's a brilliant book,' Mycroft told her.

'You've read it?'

The red-head nodded. 'I've read all of Matthew Reilly's books. I even met him a few years ago when he did a book tour; I think it was for... The Five Greatest Warriors.'

'Who's Matthew Reilly again?' Greg interrupted. 'I mean, I know he's an author...'

'An Australian author who writes action novels,' Mycroft explained. 'He's fantastic and writes detailed descriptions of massive fight scenes. It's like reading a book version of an action movie only better.'

'I keep trying to get Greg to read them,' Maggie told the genius, 'but he never has the time.'

'I read,' Greg huffed. 'I read all the Harry Potter books, and I even read that bloody Twilight book.'

'I'm sorry, but a girl at the hospital said it was amazing,' Maggie said. 'I didn't mind it.'

Greg rolled his eyes. 'It's four hundred pages of, "Oh, Edward's _so_ dreamy".'

Mycroft chuckled and Greg looked at him. 'Yes, I've read Twilight,' Mycroft nodded. 'I actually read all four.'

'Why?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft shrugged. 'I had hoped that perhaps the second, third, or fourth book would be better... I was mistaken.'

Greg smirked before turning back to his mum. 'I've read heaps of stuff,' he continued, 'just 'cause I won't read your boyfriend's books-'

'He's not my boyfriend,' Maggie said with an eye roll.

'You wish he was,' Greg teased.

'Oh yes, I _love_ Matthew Reilly,' Maggie nodded, a serious expression on her face. 'I want to move to Australia with him and have his babies.'

Greg giggled and Mycroft smiled at the two.

'You know,' Greg said when he'd stopped laughing, 'I might give a Matthew Reilly book a go; see what all the fuss is about.'

'Oh sure, as soon as your boyfriend mentions he's a fan, you're all for it,' Maggie sighed. 'But when your mum tells you to read it you run the other way.'

'No, the books just sound... interesting,' Greg tried.

'Sure, sure, Gregory,' Maggie nodded condescendingly.

'It's true,' Greg pouted.

'Mm-hmm.'

'Mycroft, tell her!' Greg whined.

Mycroft held his hands up. 'I'm staying out of this.'

'Bastard,' Greg pouted.

Mycroft and Maggie shared a smirk.

After breakfast Maggie shooed the boys from the kitchen and Greg walked Mycroft to the door. It was ten past six and it would take Mycroft twenty minutes to drive home. When they reached the door Greg tugged Mycroft in for a warm, passionate kiss, Mycroft's arms immediately winding around his waist.

When they broke apart Greg said, 'I'm gonna miss you.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'I'll see you after school?'

'Yeah, just... use the front door this time,' Greg smiled.

Mycroft nodded and kissed him again. 'I'll see you later.'

'Yeah,' Greg repeated. He hated how clingy he was feeling- he really didn't want to let Mycroft go- but finally released his partner and watched him leave. Greg sighed softly and shut the door, staring at the wood.

'Aww,' Maggie said from the kitchen doorway. 'You're _so_ cute!'

'Shut up,' Greg huffed.

'Give us a hug, Greggie!' Maggie said and held her arms out. 'Mummy will take care of you 'til Mycroft gets home.'

'God you're weird!' Greg snapped and stormed down the hallway.

'I love you!' Maggie called, laughing when Greg slammed his bedroom door shut.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg didn't end up seeing Mycroft that afternoon; Sherlock got into a fight at school and needed stitches at the hospital, so Mycroft had taken the afternoon off to make sure his brother didn't try and rip them out. Greg understood, of course, but he was still a bit ticked off at the younger Holmes.

He had work Thursday afternoon, which meant he wouldn't be seeing Mycroft until Friday. Which just really, really sucked. Greg's body had needs, damn it, and Mycroft had become his drug of choice.

Still pouting as he straddled his bike, Greg decided to drown his sorrows in cigarettes. The guy who worked at the local tobacconist didn't look too closely at your age as long as you looked over sixteen. Sometimes he shooed Greg away, other times he sold him smokes.

Thankfully this was one of the good times and Greg puffed on a stick as he walked through the Tesco carpark. He'd just stamped his cigarette out when he spotted John Watson. The teenager was hanging out the front of Tesco looking bored, and Greg guessed that he was waiting for his mum.

'Hey, John,' Greg said as he approached.

John immediately backed up, watching Greg with clear worry and a hint of... fear?

Greg frowned. 'You alright?' John just nodded. 'Uh... you sure?' Another nod. Greg wracked his brain trying to think of what he'd done to scare John Watson-

\- and then remembered practically coming onto the kid the day he'd asked Mycroft out.

 _Damn it_ , Greg thought with a sigh. He thought John had taken it as the joke it was. He'd acted fine when they went to McDonalds the other day... _Yeah, when he was with Sherlock,_ a small voice offered. _'Course he was gonna act like nothing was wrong._

Greg looked at John carefully; the younger boy still hadn't moved.

'Um... John, listen, about the other day,' Greg said slowly, 'what I said to you... um, that was a joke.' John remained silent. 'I wasn't, like, _actually_ coming onto you,' Greg continued. 'I was, you know, horny; I wanted you gone so me and Mycroft could... er, make out.'

Still John remained silent.

'I... shit, I... I'm really sorry,' Greg tried. He took a tentative step forward and was glad to see that John didn't move away. 'I'm not attracted to you in any way,' Greg said. 'I mean, you're gonna be good looking when you get older, but I _definitely_ don't want you. I'm not in any way a pedophile, and I really do like Mycroft. I shouldn't have said that stuff to you, it musta freaked you out.'

Very, very slowly, John nodded.

'I'm sorry,' Greg said. 'I know you're not... gay-' _Well, not really a lie; he just_ thinks _he's straight_ , Greg's mind offered, '- and you musta thought I was gonna... you know, do somethin'. But you can trust me; I'd never force myself on someone, especially someone your age. I let my... uh, you know, take over; I wasn't thinkin' straight. You get that, right?'

John nodded again.

'Good,' Greg said. ''Cause I can be a prick; that's a fact.'

'Yeah, you are a prick,' John agreed.

'Awesome; so we both know it,' Greg smiled. John smiled back hesitantly. 'Honestly, John, I'm so sorry. I thought you'd know it was a joke. I don't want you to be scared of me or anything.'

'I'm not scared,' John huffed.

''Course not,' Greg agreed quickly. 'I don't... um, wanna make you uncomfortable. You _can_ trust me. Like I said before, if you need anyone to talk to- about school, Sherlock, _anything_ \- just give me a call. I promise to keep my hands to myself.'

John looked the brunette over carefully before saying, 'I know it was a joke. But...'

'It still made you uncomfortable.'

'Yeah.'

'Sorry,' Greg said again.

'It's... okay,' John said. 'Can we just... forget about it?'

'Yeah, 'course,' Greg nodded.

John opened his mouth to say something when a girl suddenly appeared at his shoulder. She was older than Greg- probably around nineteen or twenty- with sandy-brown hair cut in a pixie style and olive green eyes. She had John's stocky build but was still thin, and her facial features were very similar to John's.

 _Sister_ , Greg concluded just as the girl grinned at him.

'Hi there,' she said.

 _Oh God, she's checking me out,_ Greg groaned as the girl looked him up and down.

'I'm John's sister, Harry.'

'Hi,' Greg said and politely shook her hand when she offered it. 'Greg Lestrade, I'm-'

'Dating Sherlock's brother,' John cut in.

Harry sighed. 'All the good-looking ones are gay,' she mused.

' _You're_ gay,' John pointed out.

'Yeah, well... sometimes I like blokes,' Harry said. 'But only the cute ones,' she winked at Greg.

'And only when you're drunk,' John muttered, but his sister ignored him.

'Um... yeah, well I'm completely gay,' Greg told her. 'And dating Mycroft, so...'

'Really, Mycroft Holmes?' Harry said. When Greg nodded she whistled. 'I always thought he was gay... or a robot,' she admitted. 'Never thought he'd bag a cute guy like you.'

Greg laughed nervously and John sighed, looking every bit the put-out younger sibling. 'Harry, can we go home now?' he demanded.

'Yeah, yeah, keep your shirt on,' Harry said. 'It was nice meeting you, Greg.'

'You too,' Greg nodded. 'I gotta get to work anyway, so...' He looked at John. 'It was good seeing you and... thanks.'

'No worries,' John said, giving Greg a small smile.

Greg nodded and left the Watsons behind, but he caught Harry saying, 'Do you have a crush on him?'

'No!' John shouted.

Greg had to laugh.

 

{oOo}

 

Tesco seemed to be attracting everyone Greg knew that day. His lunch break was at six- Greg was working until eleven- and when he went out the back to have a smoke and eat the pie he'd bought, he found Joe leaning against the shopping trolleys.

'Joe,' was all Greg could blurt, almost dropping his food.

'Hey,' Joe said, looking nervous. He glanced around before clearing his throat. 'Er, can we talk?'

Greg hesitated before nodding and the two went to sit on the milk crates the Tesco workers used for their breaks. Joe made no move to start a conversation, so Greg focused on eating his pie. When he was done he sipped from his bottle of coke and glanced around.

'No Dylan?'

'Um... he's grounded,' Joe said. 'His parents flipped when they heard what he'd said to Holmes, and that he'd punched you for sticking up for another guy. They're... well, really pissed.'

'Good,' Greg grunted. 'Dylan's a wanker.'

'Greg-'

'He is,' Greg growled. 'I'll fuckin' knock him out next time he says shit like that to Mycroft.'

Joe sighed but didn't say anything, just watching as Greg chugged down the rest of his soft drink.

When Greg lit a cigarette Joe did the same and the two sat in an awkward silence until Joe decided to grow a set and bring up the reason he'd come to see Greg at work.

'So...' Joe said as Greg sucked back on his cigarette. The brunette raised an eyebrow, waiting. 'Um... Mycroft Holmes, _really_?' Greg shrugged. 'Come on, Greg, I'm trying here,' Joe said. 'You know I have no problem with you being gay.'

'Really?' Greg demanded. ''Cause you were calling Mycroft a fag and a fucking fairy. Seems like you have a problem to me.'

'That's different,' Joe tried.

'It is not,' Greg huffed. 'I don't give a crap if you don't like Mycroft. Teasing someone because they like men or women or both is just not cool, Joe! Hell, teasing someone because they have no sexual feelings for _anyone_ isn't cool either! You can't control who you are and aren't attracted to. How would you feel if everyone put shit on you 'cause you like girls, huh? How would that make _you_ feel?'

Joe winced. Greg was right, after all. The only reason nobody got teased for being straight was because the majority of the population was. He thought about how different his life would be if _he_ was in the minority.

'Yeah, you're right,' he finally said.

'Damn right I am,' Greg snapped.

'I'm sorry,' Joe said. 'Really, I am. I just couldn't understand why you'd wanna be with Holmes, ya know? And the whole school was goin' on about you two kissing and hanging out together, I thought he was using you or something.'

'Do I really look like someone who'd let some bloke use me?' Greg asked. 'Yeah, my past shags used me, but I used them too. I'd never jump into a proper relationship with someone if they were just using me. And Mycroft _isn't_ using me, okay? We care about each other.'

'I know, I know,' Joe sighed. 'But Greg, just... just try and see it from my point of view, and Dylan's. You've always hated Mycroft Holmes; you used to tease him with us. And suddenly we see you hangin' around him, and everyone's sayin' that you're bloody shagging and dating. What were we supposed to think?'

Greg sighed.

'You never came to us and said you were dating him,' Joe pointed out. 'If you had we woulda at least known what was going on. We just saw you kissing in the bloody car park.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg groaned. 'I know I fucked up. But that doesn't give you the right to push Mycroft around. I admit that I was a prick to him, but I _never_ physically hurt him. I'm not saying that makes me better, 'cause verbal abuse is just as bad. But... I just don't want you thinkin' what you did was okay 'cause I didn't tell you we were dating.'

'It wasn't- I'm not sayin' me and Dylan were right,' Joe agreed. 'I just wanted you to see our point of view.'

'I do,' Greg said. 'But I don't forgive Dylan, alright? He pushed my boyfriend and called him a fag.'

Joe nodded. 'I get it,' he said, 'and I'll talk to him. At the moment he's grounded 'cause of the fight.'

'Good,' Greg grumbled.

They fell into silence as they smoked, both thinking about what they'd said to each other. Finally Joe asked, 'Um... so how exactly did you and Mycroft Holmes hook up?'

Greg chuckled. 'You got half-an-hour?'

'For this story?' Joe asked. 'Hell yes.'

Greg grinned and began to tell Joe exactly how he met the real Mycroft Holmes. When he was done Joe shook his head.

'Serious?'

'Hell yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Seriously, his arse in leather...' he trailed off and hummed, Joe shaking his head.

'Whatever you say, mate. I'll take your word for it.'

'I really like him, Joe,' Greg admitted. The two stood and Greg quickly lit another cigarette- he only had five minutes left of his break. 'This isn't just some phase, or a fling. I really, really like him.'

'Yeah?' Joe asked.

'It took me ages to admit- just ask Dimmock,' Greg said, smiling ruefully. 'But yeah, I really care about him. He's my boyfriend and I'll do anything to make him happy.'

'That's good, Greg,' Joe said. 'I'm glad you've found someone to care about. I know I joke about you being a slut and all, but I never thought any different of you; you were still my mate. But... I'm still glad you've got someone who actually cares about you.'

'Yeah, me too,' Greg admitted. 'I was gettin' so sick of just sleeping with guy after guy. S'not who I am anymore. It's so much better with Mycroft.'

'I... you reckon we could hang out soon?' Joe asked. 'Like you, Mycroft, Dimmock, and Molly? We could go to the movies or something.'

'Really?'

Joe nodded. 'Maybe Dylan too if he pulls his head outta his arse. I wanna get to know the " _Real Mycroft_ ", as you put it. I mean, if he's with you, he can't be all that bad. Though I really question his taste in men.'

'Shut up,' Greg said and punched his mate in the arm, though it wasn't as hard as it could have been. 'You serious?'

'Yeah,' Joe said, 'and I wanna apologise. Me and Dyl shouldn't have pushed him like that. And, um...' he trailed off and blushed slightly, making Greg raise his eyebrows.

'And what?'

'Uh... maybe if your boyfriend likes me, he can get his brother and John Watson to stop stalking me at school.'

'What?'

'Seriously, Sherlock Holmes keeps popping up everywhere I am,' Joe told his friend. 'And he gives me these real creepy looks, Watson too. I'm freakin' out, man, I reckon he's gonna kill me.' Greg chuckled. 'I'm serious!'

'Oh, I don't doubt you,' Greg grinned. 'Sherlock will definitely try and kill you.' Joe's mouth fell open. 'But for you, I think I can ask Mycroft to rein his brother in,' Greg said.

'Oh thank God!' Joe groaned. 'I'm havin' nightmares, Greg! I keep seein' Sherlock Holmes hovering over me when I sleep!'

'Maybe he is,' Greg teased. 'Maybe it ain't a dream.'

'Don't make me hit you!' Joe threatened.

Greg chuckled and quickly finished off his cigarette before stamping it out. 'Um... thanks for comin' to see me,' Greg said. 'I'm glad you're willing to give Mycroft a chance.'

'It's the least I can do,' Joe shrugged. 'And I wanna apologise. But don't tell anyone else that, or people'll reckon I'm goin' soft.'

Greg snorted. 'No worries, mate.' They said their goodbyes and Greg went back to work, feeling slightly lighter now that he was no longer fighting with one of his friends.


	46. Dinners

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver

Mycroft sighed as he sat at the dinner table. It was Thursday- just after seven- and Gregory had work, which meant Mycroft had nowhere to go. BJ had offered to hang out with him at Greyson Lake; since the whole thing between him and Gregory had started, Mycroft had been talking to BJ a lot more than he used to.

Mycroft was surprised to find that he enjoyed hanging out with BJ, and BJ seemed to feel the same way. They were, despite their different personalities, friends. Of course it helped that Sally and BJ were still good friends, and since Anthea was dating Sally, Mycroft saw BJ a lot more.

Despite his other option being dinner with both parents, Mycroft had declined BJ's offer. He didn't feel like getting tipsy at Greyson Lake, not if Gregory wasn't there. He found that getting drunk without the other teenager was boring.

So here he was, on a Thursday night, having dinner with his family. Meghan was, of course, prattling on about the latest gossip- Mrs Saunders was sleeping with Mr Ralling, and wasn't _that_ just completely fascinating?- while Siger read the paper like it was the most interesting thing in the world, and Sherlock mashed his peas until they resembled baby vomit.

Mycroft pushed his own vegetables around while he poked at the steak with his knife. He'd never been a big red meat eater, preferring chicken, but his mother always forgot that when she told Mr Andrew what to make.

'Mycroft, how's school?' Meghan asked, breaking her eldest son from his thoughts.

'Fine, Mother,' he answered like he always did. 'I have a lot of homework to get through until my teachers assign us even more homework to do over the Christmas holidays.'

'Oh, Christmas,' Meghan sighed dreamily. 'It's such a wonderful time of year.'

'Why?' Sherlock asked, scowling at his food like it had personally offended him. 'A bunch of stupid people buying into the idea that the gifts you give in some way show just how much affection you hold for the people in your life.'

'Sherlock, it's wonderful,' Meghan tutted. 'The snow, the lights, getting together with friends and family.'

'And spending ridiculous amounts of money on shit that you won't use three weeks after the 25th,' Sherlock muttered.

'Don't swear, Sherlock,' Siger growled.

Sherlock jumped- normally it was Meghan telling him off for swearing- and looked at Mycroft, who raised an eyebrow. 'Erm... sorry, Father,' Sherlock tried.

Siger just snorted, eyes still glued to his newspaper. Before Meghan could continue her rant about Christmas, the double doors behind her opened slowly and Anthea entered.

'Forgive my tardiness,' the girl said, her BlackBerry noticeably absent. Siger always shouted when anyone pulled a mobile phone at the table.

'Anthea, dear, where were you?' Meghan asked as she swirled her wine.

'I was speaking with my mother on the phone,' Anthea said.

'Oh? And how are your parents?' Meghan questioned.

Anthea slid into her seat and Mr Andrew appeared with a plate. Anthea thanked him before answering Mrs Holmes. 'They're doing fine,' she said, 'however my grandfather doesn't seem to be getting any better. The doctors don't hold high hopes for him beating the cancer due to his age, and are estimating he'll pass in February, perhaps sooner.'

'Oh, that's no good,' Meghan tisked. Anthea just shrugged. 'And they're staying with him until then?'

'Yes,' Anthea nodded.

'Well, if you want to visit them for Christmas, just let me know,' Mrs Holmes said with a smile.

Anthea looked like she wanted to poke her tongue out but wisely kept it in her mouth. Anthea's relationship with her parents was just likes the Holmes boys' relationship with theirs.

While Mrs Lander was a nice woman who really did care, she didn't understand Anthea all that well. Anthea wasn't like other girls and her mother didn't know how to deal with that. She tried to support her daughter and encourage her to be herself, but working for and living with Siger Holmes meant that Anthea couldn't be open about her sexuality.

Mr Lander, who worked as a gardener and handyman, knew less about his daughter than his wife did. He loved Anthea, that much was obvious, but he never really spoke to her and hadn't ever tried to get to know her. So Anthea, while she loved her parents, didn't really want to spend time with them.

The table fell into silence again as Anthea started eating, Sherlock continuing to mash his food up and Mycroft poking at his. Soon enough Meghan remembered what she'd been talking about and said, 'It's only a month until Christmas, does anyone have any plans?'

'I'm going to John's,' Sherlock answered immediately.

'You always go to John's,' Meghan said. 'Why don't you stay here for the day? We can decorate the manor, maybe-'

'I'm going to John's,' Sherlock repeated.

Meghan pursed her lips but just smiled and turned to Mycroft. 'My, honey?'

Mycroft froze, not sure what to say. He usually locked himself in his room on Christmas day or snuck out and went somewhere to drink. Other times he and Anthea would drive somewhere, get drunk, and end up falling asleep in Mycroft's Jag.

This year, however, Mycroft had a boyfriend; someone he wanted to spend Christmas with. He could see himself waking up at Greg's on Christmas morning, enjoying some kissing and touching, maybe even sex if they'd moved that far ahead in their relationship. They could eat breakfast with Maggie, open presents, and... just have fun.

But he couldn't tell his mother that.

'Your mother asked you a question!' Siger barked, lowering his newspaper to scowl at Mycroft.

'I'm not sure, Mother,' Mycroft said and cleared his throat. 'I'll have to see what my plans are closer to the date.'

'We should go somewhere; Ireland, France,' Meghan hummed.

'I'm working,' Siger said gruffly.

'Oh, well,' his wife said. 'Another year, then.'

Sherlock scowled at his plate and Mycroft rolled his eyes. Whatever Siger said, Meghan would do. He was the head of the house and Meghan always did whatever her husband wanted.

When it hit eight, Mycroft folded his napkin across his plate and said, 'Please excuse me, I have homework.'

'Okay, dear,' Meghan smiled.

'You should have done it when you got home,' Siger commented. 'If you continue to be this lazy you have no hope of getting into Oxford.'

Mycroft's fingers curled into fists but he pushed his anger down and walked out of the room, Meghan prattling about another couple at the table. A few seconds later he heard Sherlock leave but didn't look back, instead going straight to his room.

He opened the door and walked in, and heard Sherlock call, 'Night, My.'

Mycroft paused. 'Goodnight, Sherlock.' Sherlock's door closed and Mycroft shut his own, letting out a deep breath. Dinner was always exhausting and he thanked the stars that Siger was away more than he was home.

After a quick shower, Mycroft changed into his pyjamas and went out onto the balcony. He shut the glass door behind him and dropped into a wicker chair beside the small table. Lighting a smoke, Mycroft dropped the packet and lighter on the table before inhaling deeply.

He felt his body begin to relax as a cold wind blew across his face, ruffling his hair and making him sigh.

He was halfway through his second cigarette when the door opened, Anthea appearing in her own pyjamas. She sat in the other chair and Mycroft slid his cigarette packet towards her. Anthea thanked him with a nod and lit a cigarette, the two silent as they smoked.

'You're dating Gregory,' Anthea said suddenly.

Mycroft tilted his head to look at her; a statement, not a question. 'Yes,' he said.

'Are you _actually_ dating?' Anthea asked. 'Or is this still "we're having sex but not in a relationship"?'

Mycroft smiled and said, 'We're actually dating. Gregory asked me out on Sunday, we talked, and I said yes.'

'I see.'

'We actually talked,' Mycroft told her. 'We discussed what we wanted, our fears, and agreed to date properly. No more denying how we feel, no more hiding what we're doing from people at school.'

Anthea nodded. 'Sally told me you were, but I wasn't sure...' She looked over at him. 'He defended you.'

Mycroft realised Sally must have told her about Greg fighting Dylan. 'Yes,' he confirmed. 'Dylan and Joe, two of his friends, were telling me to stay away from him. They got physical and said some things-'

'They called you a fag,' Anthea said, not beating around the bush.

Mycroft sighed. 'Yes.'

'Are you okay?'

He snorted and flicked ash into the glass ashtray sitting on the table. 'I've been called worse by my father,' he said. 'Two teenagers calling me a fag is hardly going to hurt me.'

'It hurts, Mycroft,' Anthea said. 'I know it does. No matter how often you hear it, someone saying that to you still hurts.'

Mycroft sighed. 'You're right,' he mumbled. 'But I won't lose sleep over it; if I gave up every time someone made fun of me I would have killed myself by now.'

'Don't,' Anthea snapped and Mycroft pursed his lips. 'Don't even joke about that, Mycroft.'

After a minute of silence Mycroft apologised quietly.

'Don't,' Anthea repeated. 'I don't want to see you like that again.'

'I was never going to kill myself,' Mycroft said.

'You were,' Anthea growled, her usual passive face now lit up with anger and hurt. 'You might not have taken a razor to your wrists, but you were pumping your body full of alcohol and cocaine. If Sherlock hadn't got you clean you'd be dead by now.'

Mycroft didn't say anything; Anthea was right, after all. He'd already hit rock bottom by the time he started using, and if Sherlock hadn't found him barely lucid on the bathroom floor he'd be dead.

'I'm sorry,' he said softly.

'I don't want your apologies,' Anthea sniffed as she sucked back on her cigarette. 'Just don't do it.'

'I'm never going back,' Mycroft promised. 'I can't do that again.'

'Good.'

The two lapsed into silence as they smoked and looked out at the Manor grounds. It was getting really cold, but neither felt inclined to move. When Anthea lit her second cigarette, Mycroft on his fourth, she asked, 'Gregory makes you happy?'

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded.

'I'm glad,' Anthea said and offered him a small smile. 'Your pining was getting annoying.'

'I wasn't _that_ obvious!' Mycroft huffed. 'You and Sherlock are blowing this way out of proportion.'

'Oh, so you leering at him in class, across the quad, and talking non-stop about him whenever his name was brought up isn't pining?' Anthea teased.

'I never said I _didn't_ pine,' Mycroft grunted. 'I just... didn't do it that obviously.' Anthea giggled and Mycroft said, 'Shut up. You and Sherlock aren't even in my classes; how would you know if I was leering at him?'

'I know you,' Anthea grinned. 'You were leering.'

'Shut up,' Mycroft repeated.

'Yes, sir.'

Mycroft smiled.

'I'm happy for you,' Anthea said honestly. 'You smile more since you started this thing with Gregory. You talk more, you go out more and actually have fun. You're just... happy.'

'Yes, I am,' Mycroft nodded. 'And you're happier since you started dating Sally.' It was Anthea's turn to smile. 'You should have asked her out when you first met,' Mycroft said.

'And you should have grown a set and shown Gregory who you really are.'

'Touche.'

Anthea chuckled.

 

{oOo}

 

_Mother's gone to France for some fashion thing; Father's gone to Japan for business, and will later be going to Melbourne and New York. I'm spending the night at John's - S_

 

Mycroft smiled as he read the text from Sherlock, and it took him a few seconds to realise Greg had spoken to him... about going to the movies with Joe Wright.

His head whipped up and he raised an eyebrow. 'Excuse me?'

Greg put on his best pout- lower lip quivering, brown eyes wide, and even ran a hand through his hair to mess it up- before saying, ' _Please_ , Mikey?' Mycroft felt his anger waver. 'It's just a movie,' Greg continued and moved closer.

It was Friday afternoon and the two were sitting on Greg's bed, Mycroft reading while Greg played a game on his phone. Suddenly Greg had just started moving and Mycroft had hoped for some snogging- even though Maggie was in the house.

But _noo_. Greg wanted Mycroft to go to the movies with Joe.

'Please?' Greg tried again.

'Why on earth would I want to go to the movies with _him_?' Mycroft demanded.

'He apologised,' Greg reminded his boyfriend.

'I know,' Mycroft sniffed. 'He apologised to _you_.'

'And he wants to apologise to you too,' Greg said. He shifted on the mattress, resting on his knees so he could lean over the red-head. 'Come on, Mycroft. Dimmo and Molly will be there too! And you can invite Anthea and Sally if you want; hell, invite BJ too!'

Mycroft felt himself begin to crack... but he completely broke when Greg kissed him lightly. He tossed his book aside and wrapped one hand around the back of Greg's neck while his other arm went around the brunette's waist. Greg gasped as he was tugged forward, the two ending up sprawled across Greg's bed.

Greg moaned as Mycroft moved him until he was lying between the genius' legs. They then went around Greg's waist and tugged him down, Greg moaning again.

Mycroft's lips assaulted his. His teeth nipped and sucked first on Greg's top lip, and then the bottom one, Greg grunting as it was sucked into Mycroft's mouth and licked.

Greg whimpered as he leaned heavily on his forearms. Mycroft was a heavy, hot presence beneath him and Greg's hips moved of their own volition; thrusting and rolling until their quickly hardening cocks pressed together.

Mycroft ripped his lips away and moaned a husky, 'Gregory,' as the older teenager continued to thrust against him. 'D-Don't...' Mycroft tried, 'in my... uniform...'

That just made Greg thrust harder. He was dressed in jeans and a jumper, while Mycroft still had the Baker Street Academy uniform on. The thought of Mycroft coming in his school trousers was almost enough to tip Greg over the edge, and he started thrusting harder against his boyfriend.

'Greg,' Mycroft mewled and licked and nipped at Greg's neck. 'P-Please, no...'

'Come _onn_...' Greg moaned. 'I got... jeans...'

Mycroft whimpered and started thrusting up, his resolve crumbling completely. Greg's fingers ghosted down his sides and he pushed hard against his boyfriend as his fingers dug into Mycroft's hips.

'Yes!' Mycroft cried out as his arse was lifted off the mattress. 'Oh God, _yess_...'

'Mycroft,' Greg groaned.

And then the door opened and Maggie's head popped in. Greg flew back and thumped his head against the wall, his back against the headboard, and groaned in pain.

Mycroft sat up quickly and grabbed his head while his face flushed a brilliant red.

Maggie had to giggle at the sight that met her; Greg and Mycroft were both flustered, panting heavily, and had kiss swollen lips.

'Sorry,' she said and waved a hand, 'I forgot I have to knock now.'

'Mum!' Greg huffed.

'Sorry,' Maggie said again but had to hold back a snicker. 'I was just wondering if Mycroft's staying for dinner.'

Greg looked at Mycroft, who'd finally got his breathing under control. 'Er... actually, Gregory and I are going to the movies.'

Greg beamed and Maggie asked, 'Oh are you?'

'Yeah,' Greg said, 'but we can eat before we go. Uh... Mycroft, did you wanna go home first or borrow some of my clothes?'

Mycroft didn't particularly feel like moving; he was still hard, despite Maggie's presence. But he gulped and nodded, eyes on the bed, and finally Maggie smiled and left.

'Bloody hell,' Greg moaned.

'You need a lock,' Mycroft grunted.

'Yeah,' Greg agreed.

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'I'll buy you one.'

'Oh yeah?' Greg asked before a grin tugged at his lips. 'So we're going to the movies?'

'Yes.'

'Thank you!' Greg shouted and tackled his boyfriend. They ended up in the same position as before and Greg kissed Mycroft quickly. 'Really, thanks,' he said with a smile. 'I know Joe was a bastard to you, but he's a nice guy. And he'll make it up to us.'

'He'd better,' Mycroft scowled. 'I want popcorn.'

'Okay.'

'And an icey.'

'Gotcha.'

'And a cigarette.'

'Yes, sir,' Greg grinned and saluted. 'Ah, but you gotta go outside, Mum won't let you smoke in the house.'

'Then get off me,' Mycroft said. He raised an eyebrow when Greg grinned.

'What if I don't want to?' he leered.

Mycroft opened his mouth to reply but the knock on the door made him clamp his mouth shut. Greg quickly scampered off the auburn haired teen as Maggie's voice called through the door, 'Is spaghetti okay?'

'Yes!' Greg shouted back.

They both heard Maggie giggle as she walked down the hall.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg and Mycroft walked into the kitchen together about twenty minutes later. Maggie had finished boiling the noodles and was stirring a pot of spaghetti sauce on the stove.

'Do you mind garlic, Mycroft?' she asked when she spotted the two teenagers.

'It's fine,' the genius answered.

'Oh yeah, garlic's _great_ ,' Greg groaned. Mycroft sat at the table while Greg went to the fridge.

'You like garlic,' Maggie said.

'I do,' Greg said from behind the fridge door. 'But it makes some things... annoying.'

Maggie smirked. 'You mean _kissing_?' she teased.

' _Mum_!'

'You're the one who brought it up!' Maggie said.

Greg rolled his eyes and pulled a can of coke from the fridge. 'Do you want one, Mycroft?'

'Yes please,' Mycroft answered.

Greg grabbed another can and Maggie said, 'Can you make up some salad, Greg?'

Greg scowled at his mum- who smiled innocently- and rolled his eyes again as he set the two cans on the table. 'Bloody women,' he muttered and set about grabbing lettuce, tomatoes, and everything else he usually tossed into a salad.

Mycroft played with his BlackBerry while Greg made the salad, and Maggie hummed while she stirred the sauce. Soon enough three plates of spaghetti and salad were dished up and they all sat down to eat.

There was a bag of bread rolls in the middle of the table and Greg had just reached for them when Maggie said, 'So who asked who out?'

Mycroft's fork stopped halfway to his mouth and Greg froze. Maggie raised an eyebrow, looking between the two.

'Well?'

' _Mum_!' Greg groaned.

'What?' Maggie said. 'Can't I take an interest in my son's life?'

Greg sighed and leaned back with a bread roll. 'I asked Mycroft out,' he said.

'And why did you suddenly decide that you really did fancy him?' Maggie asked.

Mycroft couldn't hold in his giggle and Greg shot him a scowl. Maggie beamed and watched her son once again roll his eyes.

'I... I finally realised I liked him,' the brunette mumbled. He was staring pointedly at his plate and refusing to meet his mum's eyes. 'We got into a fight and I asked him out.'

Maggie frowned. 'You got into a fight?'

Greg said, 'Yeah, 'cause _Mycroft_ was jealous.' It was Mycroft's turn to scowl at his boyfriend and Greg grinned. 'So go on, Mycroft,' he said while he stuck his fork into his food. 'Tell my mum why we were fighting.'

Maggie turned her attention to Mycroft and the genius cleared his throat. 'There was... a boy,' he said slowly, 'who was showing... _interest_ in Gregory.'

'Oh?' Maggie asked with a raised eyebrow. Mycroft nodded and sipped from his can. 'And that made you jealous?'

'Yes,' Mycroft said.

'Because you like my son.'

'Yes,' Mycroft repeated.

'That's so cute,' Maggie grinned.

Mycroft flushed pink and Greg said, 'Well _you_ are a weirdo.'

'Oh, we know that,' Maggie said and waved a hand at her son. 'So you two argued about this boy hitting on you?' she asked Greg.

Greg nodded. 'I calmed him down, we talked, and I asked him out. There, end of story.'

'Well I'm glad,' Maggie smiled. 'It's about time you pulled your head out, Greg.'

'Why does everyone keep saying that?' Greg demanded.

'Because you continued to deny that you fancied Mycroft?' Maggie tried.

Greg poked his tongue out before shoving a forkfull of spaghetti into his mouth. He slurped up his noodles loudly and Maggie tutted.

'Where are your manners?'

'Dunno; was never taught any,' Greg said.

'I find that hard to believe,' Mycroft commented. The Lestrades looked at him. 'It's more likely you refused to learn when your mother tried to teach you,' he said.

'Oh yeah, take her side,' Greg muttered.

Mycroft smiled and leaned across the table to take Greg's hand. 'I'm sorry,' he said, giving Greg's fingers a squeeze.

Greg blushed when Maggie sighed happily but squeezed back before Mycroft let his hand go. They fell into silence as they ate, until Maggie broke it.

'I'm going out next Saturday,' she announced.

Greg looked up at her. 'Birthday party?' he asked. His mum was always going to birthday parties for various nurses and doctors at the hospital.

'No, a new doctor started a few months ago,' Maggie said, 'and he doesn't know the area that well.' Greg's eyebrows rose in surprise. 'I'm showing him around.'

'Right...' Greg said. He pushed noodles around his plate, Mycroft watching him. 'Er... _him_?' Greg mumbled.

'Yes,' Maggie said. 'Is that a problem?'

'No,' Greg said quickly. 'But, um...' he cleared his throat, 'you know you can... date, right?'

Maggie blinked at him.

'I mean, I don't care,' Greg continued. 'Just... a heads up, ya know? As long as you want to go, and he treats you right-'

'Greg, I'm just showing him around,' Maggie interrupted. 'It's not a date.'

'Oh yeah, sure,' Greg said. 'That's exactly what I said everytime I went out with Mycroft.'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'So all those parties, lunches, and dinners were dates?'

Greg turned to him and said, 'Well... yeah.'

'I didn't know that,' Mycroft admitted.

'Well what would you call them?' Greg asked.

'Hanging out?' the genius tried.

Greg scoffed. 'We both fancied each other,' he said, pointing his fork at Mycroft. 'Those were dates, Mr Holmes.'

'You were in denial, Gregory dear,' Mycroft reminded him.

'And you weren't?'

Mycroft smirked. 'No. I _knew_ I liked you.'

'That's true,' Maggie nodded, drawing the attention of both teenagers. 'He told me.'

' _What_?!' Greg practically shouted.

Mycroft and Maggie exchanged looks and Greg scowled.

'My _mum_ knew that you fancied me?' he demanded, rounding on Mycroft.

'Well... she figured it out,' Mycroft mumbled. He stared pointedly at his plate. 'I didn't actually say I liked you.'

'That's true,' Maggie said. 'I asked if he liked you, and I figured it out from the way he acted.'

Greg groaned. 'When was this?' he asked.

'When I had dinner here,' Mycroft said.

Greg groaned again. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

'It wasn't any of my business,' his mother said. 'Mycroft didn't have to tell you. And why should he have? He thought you didn't like him.'

'But why?' Greg asked. He turned to his boyfriend again. 'Everyone knew! Dimmock and Molly wouldn't stop teasing me and calling me your girlfriend.' Maggie chuckled and sipped her water. 'Hell, even _she_ knew!' Greg said and pointed at his mum.

'Well I didn't,' Mycroft shrugged. 'I thought it was just...'

'Fun?' Greg supplied. Mycroft nodded and the older teenager sighed. 'We're so stupid,' Greg mumbled. 'We coulda been datin' back then.'

'We practically were,' Mycroft said and shrugged one shoulder. 'No harm done.'

Greg grunted in response and they fell into silence again. When they finished dinner Greg and Mycroft took the plates to the sink.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft murmured.

Greg looked at him. 'About what?'

'Not telling you.'

'No, you didn't need to,' Greg said. 'And I get why you didn't. It's the same reason I didn't tell you as soon as I realised... you were scared of getting hurt.' Mycroft nodded slowly. Greg reached out and threaded his fingers through Mycroft's. 'Like you said; no harm done.'

Mycroft smiled and Greg closed the distance between them to press a soft, gentle kiss to Mycroft's lips. The two kissed for a few seconds before Maggie giggled behind them.

Breaking apart quickly, Greg ran a hand through his hair and Mycroft blushed.

'You two made up, then?' Maggie grinned.

'Shut up,' Greg mumbled.

'Leave the dishes, I'll do them.'

'Are you sure?' Greg asked.

Maggie nodded. 'You two are going to the movies, right?'

'Yeah,' Greg said.

'M'kay, well drive safe,' Maggie said and kissed Greg's cheek. She smiled at Mycroft.

'Thank you for dinner,' the red-head said and Maggie nodded.

'Not a problem, Mycroft. Now you two get going.'

The two teenagers thanked her again before leaving the kitchen, their fingers still linked as they walked.


	47. Fun At The Movies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Author's Note:** Sorry for the delay but I didn't have internet credit for a few days. In better news I got a heap of writing done and I'm currently writing chapter fifty-nine. Also, according to my current plane there will be eighty chapters and an epilogue. Seriously, this story never stops growing.
> 
> Anywho, enjoy :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

Anthea and Sally were busy, but BJ was all for a night at the movies; as long as he didn't have to watch Dimmock make out with Molly or Greg make out with Mycroft. Mycroft assured the football player that Joe was going to be there, and eventually BJ agreed.

Greg lent Mycroft a thick jacket so he could ride his bike to the movies. Mycroft had been keeping the spare helmet in the boot of his car and quickly tugged it on when Greg straddled his bike.

Arms firmly around his boyfriend, Mycroft grinned to himself as Greg backed down the driveway before starting his bike. Riding with Greg was addictive; the wind whipping at his clothes, Greg's warm, firm body against his own... Mycroft could definitely get used to it.

They zipped downed the streets and around corners, Greg an excellent and confident rider. When they pulled into the carpark Mycroft was a little sad that Greg didn't live further away from the shopping centre.

The two climbed off the bike and Mycroft grinned at his boyfriend.

'Like riding, huh?' Greg asked. He remembered Mycroft's Harley, sitting in the garage at Holmes Manor.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded.

'We'll have to go for more rides before the weather turns colder,' Greg said. 'It's a bitch riding in the snow; too cold and wet.'

Mycroft smiled at the promise of future rides and set the helmet on the back of the seat while he dug around for his cigarettes.

He and Greg had just lit their sticks when Dimmock's car drove past, the other teenager parking a few spots from them. Soon he and Molly came into view and Dimmock's eyes rolled up and down Mycroft's body.

'Looking good, Mycroft,' Dimmock grinned when he saw the thick black jacket with silver buckles that Mycroft was wearing. Coupled with the tight black jeans and chucks, Mycroft was looking... _sexy_.

Greg scowled at his best friend. 'Stop leering at my boyfriend!'

'I wasn't leering!'

Molly giggled as Greg and Dimmock started arguing and Mycroft just lit a cigarette, watching with a raised eyebrow. When Greg finally thumped Dimmock in the thigh, the two retreated to their partners with pouts.

'He can look, you know,' Mycroft said to Greg. 'It doesn't mean he's going to jump me.'

'I know,' Greg grumbled. 'But how would you feel if he looked at me?' Mycroft shrugged. 'Seriously, you wouldn't care?' Greg asked.

'No,' Mycroft said with a head shake. He rolled his cigarette between his fingers to rid the end of ash and said, 'What I care about his him trying to sleep with you again. If he ever hints at wanting to get into your trousers I'll break his arm.'

Greg blinked at Mycroft- who was dead serious- before beaming. 'Awesome.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'Oh, Gregory,' he sighed.

'What?' Greg said. 'My big powerful boyfriend will defend me if any guys get touchy; that's just _super_ hot.'

'Is it?'

'Mm,' the brunette hummed. He shifted closer to Mycroft until their arms were pressed together and pecked him on the lips. 'Super sexy,' he whispered.

A shudder of pleasure swept through Mycroft's body and he swallowed thickly. 'I think we should get seats up the back,' he said.

Greg raised his eyebrows. 'Oh yeah?'

'Yes,' Mycroft affirmed with a nod.

Greg grinned and said, 'Excellent.'

 

{oOo}

 

The group were laughing and joking around with each other when BJ arrived. But five minutes later Mycroft clamped up and Greg sighed. Joe had parked a few spots away from the group and walked towards them slowly. His eyes darted between Greg and Mycroft.

'Uh... hi,' he said weakly.

'Hey,' Greg replied. He looked at Mycroft, who was glaring hard at Joe, before continuing. 'Um... formal introductions, eh?'

Joe was staring at Mycroft- no doubt surprised by what he was wearing- but nodded when Greg indicated for him to come closer.

'Joe Wright, meet Mycroft Holmes, my boyfriend. Mycroft, this is my mate, Joe.'

'A pleasure,' Mycroft said stiffly.

'Mycroft,' Greg sighed.

'What?' the taller teen huffed.

'You said you were gonna try,' Greg reminded him. He poked Mycroft in the side and the genius rolled his eyes.

'Fine,' he said and held his hand out. 'Joe, lovely to meet you.'

'Uh, you too,' Joe nodded. He shook Mycroft's hand and the two quickly pulled apart, Mycroft still glaring slightly.

'Well, isn't this fun?' Dimmock beamed.

Molly slapped him in the stomach but smiled at Joe. 'Hi, Joe.'

'Hey, Molly,' Joe said. He seemed happy to see them, though a bit worried that Mycroft was going to go crazy and kill him. Which was funny, considering it was him and Dylan who'd tried to bash Mycroft.

Realising his boyfriend wasn't going to start any conversations, Greg ground out his cigarette and said, 'So, movies?'

Everyone set off, BJ and Joe hanging back while Molly and Dimmock led the group. Greg reached out and threaded his fingers through Mycroft's. He gave Mycroft's hand a squeeze when the blue-eyed boy looked at him.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered.

'Nah, s'fine,' Greg shrugged. 'I don't expect you to be best friends or anything.'

'I know,' Mycroft inclined his head. 'And I _will_ try, because he's your friend. But... it's not like with us, Gregory. Joe can't get into my good graces by kissing me.'

'He'd better not,' Greg growled.

Mycroft chuckled and tugged his partner closer to press a soft, gentle kiss to his lips. 'Of course not,' he agreed. 'And if he did I'd smack him.'

'Me too,' Greg said. 'No one kisses you but me.'  
They bought their tickets and Greg, Dimmock and BJ went to get popcorn while Molly disappeared to buy a drink. That left Mycroft and Joe standing off to the side, both as uncomfortable as the other.

'So...' Joe murmured. Mycroft inclined an eyebrow but remained silent. 'I, uh... I'm sorry about the other day.'

'Mm.'

'Me and Dyl had no right to do that,' Joe continued. 'We were just worried about Greg. He's always been... well you two have never liked each other, and suddenly we see you kissing and everyone's goin' on about you two, you know, dating.'

Mycroft turned to look at him.

'We acted badly, obviously,' Joe said. 'We coulda just asked Greg, but he was being pretty silent on the subject.'

'Yes,' Mycroft agreed. If Greg had just told Joe and Dylan that he and Mycroft were dating, they could have avoided the suspension.

'I've never seen me-self as a bully,' Joe said and blushed lightly, 'but it's pretty clear I am. So I'm sorry I acted like that, Mycroft. I'm sorry I pushed you and called you names.'

'You didn't push me,' Mycroft reminded the taller teenager. 'It was Dylan.'

'Yeah, but I didn't stop him, I basically backed him up,' Joe said. 'I ain't gonna deny my part in it. I'm really sorry, Mycroft. Calling you a fa... well, saying that, it's just not right. Greg chewed me out about it, believe me, and I'll never be saying that to anyone ever again. You... well, you are who you are.'

Mycroft just nodded.

'So yeah, I'm real sorry,' Joe said. 'I hope we can move past this. I don't really know anything about you, apart from you bein' a genius and all. We might not ever be good mates but I'd like us to be able to hang out without tryin' to kill each other.'

'I'd like that too,' Mycroft said. He turned to face Joe properly and sighed. 'At the moment I don't like you,' he stated and Joe's mouth fell open. 'But you're Gregory's friend, and Gregory isn't an idiot. He wouldn't be friends with you if you were a complete prick. So I'm willing to put what happened behind us and be civil. Hopefully, in time, we can be friends.'

'Yeah,' Joe nodded, 'that'd be cool.'

Mycroft gave him a small smile before turning back around. Greg and BJ appeared carrying popcorn and drinks, with Dimmock and Molly trailing behind.

'You alright?' Greg asked, his eyes flicking from Mycroft to Joe and back again.

'Absolutely fine,' Mycroft smiled. He pecked Greg on the lips and took the icey he was holding. 'Thank you, Gregory dear.'

'No problem, Mycroft darling,' Greg beamed. He looped his arm with Mycroft's and the two set off, leaving BJ chuckling behind them and Joe blinking.

'Er... Gregory dear?' he asked.  
BJ snorted. 'Pet-names,' he said. 'I don't think they actually realise they're doing it.'

'Right,' Joe chuckled. 'They're... weird.'

'Oh yeah,' BJ nodded. 'You get used to it, though,' he shrugged. 'Get prepared to see 'em making out and groping each other all the time.'

Joe smiled as he and the others set off after Mycroft and Greg.

 

{oOo}

 

As soon as the previews started, Greg was on Mycroft's lap. Joe and BJ, who were sitting closest, rolled their eyes and moved two rows forward. Joe couldn't help but twist in his seat just to see the sight of Greg Lestrade thrusting his tongue down Mycroft Holmes' throat. When Mycroft's hands went to Greg's arse, Joe promptly faced the screen.

'Um... so they do that a lot?' Joe asked BJ.

The other boy snorted as he shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth. 'Mate, it's weird when they're _not_ groping each other.'

'Right,' Joe said. 'It's just, um... hard to get used to, you know?'

'Ya _do_ get used to it,' BJ told him. 'I guess it was easier for me 'cause I've known the real Mikey for about two years now. But once you realise that he's just like Greg, the two goin' at it like horny little bastards is just another day.'

Joe smiled slightly and went back to watching the screen, trying to ignore the occasional moan he could hear from the back of the theatre.

Meanwhile, Mycroft and Greg were groping each other like the horny teenagers they were. Greg was squeezed into Mycroft's seat, his knees digging hard into Mycroft's thighs. The armrests were in the way and no matter how many times Greg squirmed and thrust his hips forward, he could get no relief to his aching groin.

That didn't stop him from devouring Mycroft's mouth. Their tongues stroked and licked each other while their lips sucked, their teeth nipped. The two bobbed back and forth as they kissed and Mycroft shoved his right hand up the back of Greg's tight black t-shirt. His nails raked down Greg's smooth skin and the older teen moaned.

He bucked harder but all that accomplished was Mycroft wincing; he was sure his thighs were going to be heavily bruised by the end of the movie.

'Sorry,' Greg panted.

'Here,' Mycroft said. He tugged and pushed until Greg was sitting sideways on his lap, legs hanging over one armrest, his lower back pressed to the other. Greg wrapped his arms loosely around Mycroft's neck and grinned. 'Better?' Mycroft asked.

'Oh yeah,' Greg nodded. And then he leaned forward again and crushed their mouths back together.

Something had to be said about making out in the back of a movie theatre. Greg figured it was the knowledge that they were in public, with people all around, and at any minute they could get caught. Coupled together with the usual fire that burned in his gut when Mycroft kissed him and Greg was just about ready to explode.

Mycroft was no better off. Despite his suave and polite attitude, he was bucking against Greg's arse, trying to push his aching cock up against his boyfriend, while he raked at Greg's back with one hand, his other fingers twisting through Greg's spiky brown hair. He was moaning shamelessly and tugging Greg as close as he could until their chests pressed together, not caring when an older couple at the other end of the theatre threw them dirty looks.

After a good few minutes snogging each other, Greg suddenly slid back and off Mycroft's lap. Mycroft was panting slightly and raised both eyebrows when Greg got to his knees.

'You ever got a blowjob in a movie theatre?' Greg asked. Mycroft swallowed thickly before he nodded. 'Really?' Another nod. 'You filthy little boy,' Greg grinned. 'Well, I'll show you what a real blowjob feels like.'

'Yes please,' Mycroft begged.

Greg snickered and rubbed up and down Mycroft's thighs while he got comfortable on his knees. He tried not to think about the grubby floor as his fingers pulled at Mycroft's belt. Mycroft was breathing heavily and staring down at Greg with lust-blown eyes that flicked to his crotch when Greg got his belt open.

Greg palmed the bulge in Mycroft's jeans before popping the button and pulling the zip down a second later. Mycroft inhaled sharply and lifted his hips, allowing Greg to tug his jeans down far enough to expose his crotch.

'Mm,' Greg hummed and rubbed Mycroft again through his boxers.

'Gregory,' Mycroft moaned.

'Mm?' Greg repeated.

'Please,' Mycroft begged.

'Oh, so you want it fast and dirty?' Greg asked. Mycroft nodded. 'Well alright-y then.' He popped the button of Mycroft's boxers and his hand dove in. Mycroft's hard cock sprang free, practically begging for attention, and Greg smiled as he wrapped a hand around the long shaft.

Mycroft whimpered and his hips thrust off the seat. Pre-come was already oozing from the slit and Greg leaned forward. He pressed his left hand to Mycroft's thigh and stroked up and down Mycroft's shaft with his right hand. Mycroft whimpered again and Greg smiled.

_If he wants fast and dirty..._ Greg thought with a smirk, _I'll fuckin' show him fast and dirty._

Giving Mycroft's shaft one more stroke, Greg held the base firmly in his fingers before darting forward. The only warning Mycrot got was a quick lick to the head before Greg swallowed half his cock. He stuffed his fist into his mouth and cried out against his skin as Greg's lips wrapped firmly around the middle of his shaft.

Greg sucked back hard before moving down, swallowing more of Mycroft's shaft until the head slid into his throat. He sucked again and Mycroft's hips jolted at the pleasure.

'Of goff,' Mycroft moaned against his fist. If Greg could grin he would; he so enjoyed hearing Mycroft crack.

He held his position for a few seconds before pulling back slowly. His tongue traced the vein along the underside of Mycroft's shaft before it twirled around the head, lapping away more salty pre-ejaculate. Mycroft whimpered softly and Greg's eyes darted up.

Mycroft was gripping the armrest with one hand, his knuckles white, while the other was stuffed into his mouth. His lips were swollen from their earlier kissing and a light sheen of sweat could be seen across his forehead.

Greg grinned, his lips stretched wide over the crown of Mycroft's dick, before he went back down and sucked. Mycroft's head tipped back as his body was assaulted by pleasure. His skin felt over-heated and his gut was tightening. Every time Greg drew back his hand followed, continuing to stimulate Mycroft's cock as his tongue licked and swirled around the head. Mycroft knew he wasn't going to last long and thrust up.

Greg let him and Mycroft's free hand- the one not keeping his moans and groans silent- reached out and grabbed onto the back of the brunette's head. Greg hummed softly, the sound sending vibrations through Mycroft's shaft, and moved faster when Mycroft pushed.

Mycroft was now effectively fucking Greg's mouth; his hips lifted off the worn seat, open belt clinking in time with their rhythm; his fingers pulled at Greg's hair, twisting the soft brown locks while his nails scraped at the older boy's scalp; he was grunting and whimpering against his fist, his teeth digging into the pale flesh of his hand and beginning to leave bruises.

Greg hummed, moaned, and sucked as he blew Mycroft off. He now had both hands against Mycroft's thighs and was squeezing hard, digging his fingers into denim-covered flesh. Mycroft's feet were planted firmly on the floor and his head tipped back as his body ran towards completion.

Reaching out, Greg stuck his hand into Mycroft's boxers and fondled his balls as best he could. The added pleasure made Mycroft gasp and Greg sucked even harder. The slick wet sound of Greg swallowing his cock, the velvet heat of Greg's mouth, and that devilishly talented tongue all became too much.

With one last thrust, Mycroft rammed himself down Greg's throat and shouted against his fist as he came.

Come exploded against Greg's tongue and he swallowed it all, wanting to smile when he heard Mycroft whimper above him. The genius' entire body shuddered as Greg milked every last drop from him, and when he finally fell back into his seat he was completely spent.

Greg licked and sucked softly until Mycroft was completely clean and pulled back with a wet pop. Mycroft blinked blearily at his boyfriend and Greg looked around. The couple who had been sitting in their row had moved forward and Greg wondered if they'd seen him get to his knees. Everyone else was watching the movie and Greg grinned; Operation Suck Mycroft Holmes Off was a success.

'So?' he asked as he got up. He felt his knees pop and bent to rub them.

'Uh... very nice,' Mycroft nodded. He wiped a hand across his sweaty forehead. ' _Very_ nice indeed.'

Greg chuckled and fell back into his seat while Mycroft tucked himself away, the two silent as the genius did his fly and belt up.

'So...' Mycroft hummed.

'Mm?' Greg looked over at him.

'What are you doing tonight?' Mycroft asked.

Greg blinked and tilted his head. 'You mean besides blowing my boyfriend in the back of a cinema?' Mycroft chuckled. 'Nothin', why?'

'Well... I was thinking you could stay at mine tonight,' Mycroft said. He blushed when Greg raised an eyebrow. 'So I can... pay you back,' he continued and gestured at his crotch.

'Right...'

'And because I want you to stay,' Mycroft added hastily.

'Erm... what about your parents?' Greg asked.

'My father's in Japan on business; he left yesterday,' Mycroft told him. 'And my mother went to France for some fashion thing. Mother won't be back until the end of next week, and my father's flying from Japan to Melbourne and then New York. He shouldn't be back for another two weeks.'

'Right,' Greg said. He nodded to himself as he thought about Mycroft's offer. He could spend the night wrapped in the red-head's arms, maybe get a blowjob, and then make out in the morning and possibly get some more touching.

He grinned and turned to Mycroft, who was waiting patiently for his answer.

'Sure,' he said.

'Really?' Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded. 'Um... I'm allowed to, right? I mean, I still gotta ask my mum, but she should say yes.'

'Of course,' Mycroft said. 'I'll phone Mrs Hudson when the movie's over. She shouldn't have a problem.'

'Awesome,' Greg grinned and shuffled over in his seat. He leaned against Mycroft, putting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder, and Mycroft wrapped an arm around him. 'Mm,' Greg murmured.

Mycroft smiled.

 

{oOo}

 

'Hey, can I ask you something?'

The words were whispered in Mycroft's ear and the red-head had to push down another wave of lust. Damn it, he'd _just_ got a blowjob no more than ten minutes ago. What the hell was it about Gregory that made him lose control?

'Mycroft?'

'Erm, sorry,' Mycroft said. He turned to look at Greg. 'What is it?'

Greg's eyes were trained on him and Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'Well... um, why did you decide it was time to show me who you really were?'

'Pardon?'

'Why did you choose _that_ party?' Greg asked. 'I mean, there's probably been dozens of parties where we were both there, but you never showed me who you really were,' he said and gestured at the clothes Mycroft was wearing. 'Why'd you suddenly decide that you wanted me to know?'

Mycroft cocked his head to one side and Greg waited patiently for his boyfriend to answer. 'I was tired,' Mycroft admitted after a few minutes.

'Tired?' Greg echoed.

'Of wanting you, of watching you from afar,' Mycroft elaborated. 'I was tired of wearing a mask around you and not just being myself. So I finally decided to show you who I was and...'

Greg grinned. 'And seduce me?'

'No.'

'Come on, that's totally what you did,' Greg chuckled. 'You made sure I saw how hot you were, then got all rough and sexy with me, and then kissed me and fucked off. You _totally_ seduced me.'

'Mm... well, I suppose I did,' Mycroft conceded.

Greg chuckled and kissed Mycroft gently before drawing back. 'You had me the moment we bumped into each other.'

'Marvellous.'

Greg chuckled.


	48. Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver

'So, did everyone enjoy the movie?' Greg asked with a grin. The group was walking back to the carpark. Dimmock had an arm slung around Molly, BJ and Joe were walking side by side, and Greg had his fingers linked with Mycroft's, the genius swinging their joined arms.

'We all know _you_ enjoyed it,' Dimmock snickered.

Greg's eyebrows went up. 'And what's _that_ supposed to mean?'

'Please,' Dimmock scoffed.

'You've got a shit-eating grin on your face,' BJ added.

Greg's smile, if possible, widened and he pecked Mycroft on the cheek. 'Well... it was a _really_ good movie,' he said.

Even Mycroft laughed at that.

They reached Greg's bike and the smokers lit up... which was everyone except Molly. She sipped the lemonade Dimmock had bought her before they left the cinema and watched smoke curl above their heads.

'Anyone need a lift?' Dimmock asked as he puffed on his smoke.

'Nah, I drove,' Joe said.

'Me too,' BJ added.

'Mm, me and Mikey, on my bike,' Greg grinned. He wrapped an arm around Mycroft's neck and the red-head smirked at him.

'Seriously, do you two ever get... ya know, tired?' Joe asked.

Greg stared at him and Mycroft said, 'Tired of what?'

'Fucking?' BJ offered.

'Ah, ah,' Greg said and waggled a finger at the larger teenager. 'That ain't any of your business, Benjamin.'

'Seriously?' Joe laughed. Again the couple stared at him. 'Greg, all you ever do is talk about your sex life.'

'Not anymore,' Dimmock told his mate. Joe looked at him. 'Seriously, since he and Mycroft started... whatever they were doing before dating, all I've heard is that he's a great kisser.'

Joe looked at Greg, who shrugged. 'Seriously?' he asked. 'You don't even talk to Dimmo about your sex life?'

'It's none of his business,' Greg said. 'What me and Mycroft do is between us.'

'What Mycroft and I do,' Mycroft corrected.

Greg leaned over and sealed their mouths together in a dirty kiss. Mycroft grunted in surprise but quickly pulled Greg closer. Ash dropped off the end of his cigarette and rolled across Greg's shoulder, not that either cared as they licked into each other's mouths.

Dimmock had his head tilted as he watched and Molly was blushing. BJ rolled his eyes and continued to smoke while Joe looked at everything but the snogging couple.

When they finally broke apart Mycroft blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. 'Um... what was that for?' he asked.

Greg grinned and sucked back on his smoke. 'You're so hot when you correct me.'

Mycroft chuckled. He pecked Greg on the lips, keeping the kiss chaste, and went back to smoking his cigarette.

'Seriously?' Joe asked again.

'Seriously what?' Greg said.

'You actually... you know, don't talk to anyone about your sex life?' Joe asked.

Greg nodded. 'Like I said, it's nobody's business but our own.'

'But they don't mind snogging and touching each other in public,' Dimmock added.

'Hey, we can't help gettin' all hot and bothered in the middle of a movie theatre,' Greg grinned.

Dimmock snorted. He took a last drag of his cigarette before dropping it on the concrete and stamping it out. 'Well dudes, I gotta get Molly home.' He checked his watch as he said, 'Anyone fancy hangin' out tomorrow or Sunday?'

'We got that party at Matt's house tomorrow night,' Joe reminded him.

'And Lily has a cricket game at midday, remember?' Molly added.

'Oh, right,' Dimmock said. 'So I'll see you lot at Matt's.'

The group said their goodbyes and headed off for their cars. Greg didn't realise Joe was still standing there until he got on his bike.

'What's up?' he asked.

'Um...' Joe trailed off and looked at Mycroft, who raised an eyebrow. 'I just wanted to... say sorry, again, for what I did on Wednesday.'

'It's not a problem,' Mycroft assured him. 'We agreed to move on, yes?'

'Yeah,' Joe nodded. He held out his hand and Mycroft shook it. 'It was nice meetin' the real you, Mycroft.'

Mycroft inclined his head and Joe turned to Greg.

'I'll see you at Matt's?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Seeya then.'

Joe offered them one last smile before he walked off towards his car. Greg turned to look at Mycroft, who was standing beside the motorbike staring in Joe's direction.

'Myc?'

'Sorry,' Mycroft blinked. He turned to smile at his boyfriend.

'So... you and Joe put it behind ya, then?' Greg asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'He's... a nice guy.'

'Yeah, he is,' Greg said. 'I mean, he can be a bit of a bastard, but then again so can I.'

'I know that,' Mycroft said and chuckled at the pout Greg gave him. He leaned over and kissed his boyfriend quickly before getting on the bike behind him. 'We've moved on, Gregory,' he reassured his partner.

'Cool,' Greg said. 'So, we'll just go to my place so I can ask my mum if I can stay at yours, yeah?'

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. He kissed Greg's neck and said, 'Thank you for tonight; it was nice.'

'What, the blowjob?'

Mycroft chuckled. 'No, making me go to the movies with Joe. While I don't think we'll ever be very good friends, I'm glad that we can at least get along; for your sake.'

'Thanks for trying, Mycroft,' Greg said. 'I appreciate it, really.'

'Not a problem.' Mycroft kissed Greg's neck again and took the helmet Greg offered him. 'Now, on to your house. Mush!'

Greg giggled as he tugged his own helmet on.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg pulled into his driveway and frowned when he saw the car parked beside his mother's. He took his helmet off and behind him Mycroft did the same.

'Isn't that-'

'Dylan's car,' Greg interrupted. 'Yeah.'

'What's he doing here?' Mycroft asked.

'No fucking idea,' Greg scowled. He climbed off his bike and Mycroft followed, the two walking up the drive and to the front door. Greg pushed it open and walked straight towards the kitchen, where he could hear his mum.

He stopped dead in the doorway and Mycroft peeked over his shoulder. Dylan was sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of tea, Maggie seated beside him. The teenager's face was still bruised in a variety of colours; the left side of his face was a mash of dark purple and yellow, while his right cheek was a soft yellow. His left eyebrow was split and the eye beneath was black.

Dylan had looked up as soon as he heard Greg's bike pull up and he swallowed nervously as he looked from Greg to Mycroft.

'What the fuck are you doing here?' Greg snarled.

'Gregory,' Maggie sighed.

'No, what the _fuck_ is he doing here?' Greg demanded. He pointed a finger at Dylan. 'Get the fuck out of my house!'

'Gregory!' Maggie tried again, only this time she snapped at her son, who instantly lowered his arm. 'Enough swearing, alright? Shouting at him won't get you anywhere.' Greg glared at Dylan. 'Now you and Mycroft are going to sit down and the three of you are going to sort out your issues, alright? And that means no shouting, no swearing, and absolutely no hitting.'

Greg scowled but sat opposite Dylan while Mycroft slowly took the seat next to him. The three boys were silent as Maggie made more tea and set two mugs before Greg and Mycroft.

'Thank you,' Mycroft said politely.

Maggie smiled at him and turned back to her son. 'Now I'm going into the sitting room,' she said. 'You three talk, alright?' Greg grunted. 'Gregory-'

' _Alright_ ,' Greg growled.

Maggie patted the top of his head and Greg scowled at her as she left. She pulled the door shut after her but left it slightly open so she could hear if things got violent. Greg, Mycroft and Dylan sat in silence, Dylan nervously playing with his mug, while Greg glared at him. Mycroft looked between the two before clearing his throat.

Greg rolled his eyes and said, 'Fine, so we're here; we're talking. Now what the hell do you want?'

'I... well... me mum and dad said I had to say sorry,' Dylan mumbled.

'So say it and get out,' Greg said. 'I don't care about your fake apologies.'

'Gregory,' Mycroft said and nudged him.

'What?' Greg demanded.

'At least hear him out,' Mycroft said.

Dylan snorted and Greg's eyes whipped to him 'What?'

'I see he wears the pants in this _relationship_ ,' Dylan said. He practically spat the last word and Greg's expression darkened.

'Listen here you little fuck-'

'Gregory,' Mycroft tried.

'- don't talk about shit you don't know,' Greg continued. 'Mycroft's my boyfriend, we're in a relationship,' he said. 'I don't give a fuck what you think, alright? You have no idea what we mean to each other and you have no idea what our relationship is about.'

'It's about fucking, clearly,' Dylan growled. 'Why else would you wanna date Mycroft Holmes?'

'Maybe 'cause he's brilliant, funny, charming, and amazing fun,' Greg said. 'Not that you'd know that, 'cause you don't know him.'

'I know him,' Dylan said angrily. 'He's a fucking pansy-'

He cut himself off when Greg leapt to his feet, sending his chair clattering to the floor. Mycroft was immediately up and grabbed Greg around the waist, pulling him back.

'Let me go!' Greg shouted. 'I'll fucking kick his arse again the stupid goddamn prick!'

The kitchen door opened and Maggie said, 'Greg, stop it!'

'Why should I?' Greg demanded. 'This fucker comes in here and thinks he can say shit about Mycroft! I won't stand for that crap!'

Maggie rubbed her eyes and turned to Dylan. 'Dylan, I let you in because you said you wanted to talk. I won't have you saying hurtful things about Mycroft while you're in my house. Is that clear?'

Dylan nodded and Greg stopped fighting Mycroft.

'Now,' Maggie continued, 'Greg, you sit down. Dylan, if you want to remain a guest here, you'll keep your foul language to yourself.'

Greg scowled at his former friend and Mycroft finally let him go. The two sat and Maggie nodded.

'Good,' she said. 'Now talk, alright?'

She left again, this time leaving the door completely open.

'You _don't_ know Mycroft,' Greg said as soon as they were alone. 'You have no idea how amazing he is. You're treating him like garbage based on how he acts at school. He's my boyfriend, I care about him, and if you ever wanna be my mate again you'll stop treatin' him like shit, got that?'

'Why's he need you to fight his battles?' Dylan sneered.

'Believe me, Dylan,' Mycroft said, speaking to the bigger teenager for the first time since entering the house, 'I don't need Gregory fighting my battles for me. I could have you on the floor begging for mercy in twenty seconds.'

Dylan scoffed.

'Gregory's my boyfriend,' Mycroft continued. 'We're in a relationship; we're partners. That means that if someone says something hurtful to me, or tries to hurt me in any way, Gregory will protect me. And I'll do the same for him. Because we care about each other, like Greg said. I'd take his warning; don't mess with either of us unless you want to get hurt.'

Dylan looked Mycroft over carefully, judging his words and no doubt wondering if he was telling the truth. Finally he snorted and looked away from the genius. 'Whatever.'

Mycroft looked away from him and to Greg, who sighed and rubbed his eyes.

'Look, Dyl, we've been mates for years,' he said. 'Yeah, we're not as close as me and Dimmock, or you and Joe, but we were friends. If you have a problem with Mycroft then we have a problem.'

'So you're choosin' him over me, your so-called friend?' Dylan demanded.

'Yeah, I am,' Greg nodded. ''Cause a real mate wouldn't ask me to choose. A real mate wouldn't try and bash a guy just 'cause he was hanging out with me. A _real mate_ would be happy for me and try to get along with my boyfriend.

'Mycroft hasn't asked me to choose,' Greg continued, 'and he never would. He even went to the movies tonight with Joe because Joe's my mate; he was trying to get along with him for _me_.' Dylan's eyebrows climbed in surprise. 'Mycroft's always been nice to Dimmock because Dimmock's my mate. And I'm nice to Mycroft's friends because I care about him; I'm trying for _him_. That's what couples do; they make sacrifices for each other. So if you wanna continue being a fucking arsehole then we're done. I won't have you saying shit about Mycroft.'

Dylan stared long and hard at Greg and it didn't take long for him to realise Greg was serious. He snorted and stood. 'I don't think I can do it.'

'Well at least you're honest,' Greg muttered. 'I guess I'll see you around.'

'So this is really it?' Dylan demanded. 'We're gonna stop bein' mates 'cause you wanna shag Mycroft Holmes?'

'We're gonna stop hanging being mates 'cause you're being a prick,' Greg said. 'Mycroft's my boyfriend, I don't just wanna shag him. I wanna spend time with him and get to know him. We have fun together. We're friends, it just so happens that we wanna have sex. That's not what's important, alright? So we're gonna stop being mates 'cause you can't pull your head out of your arse and be happy for me.'

'And I suppose Joe and Dimmock will side with you?' Dylan scowled.

'That's up to them,' Greg shrugged. 'They're both fine with me dating Mycroft.'

Dylan looked between Greg and Mycroft before snorting again. 'Whatever,' he muttered and went to the door.

'Leave Mycroft alone,' Greg said and Dylan stopped. He looked over his shoulder. 'I don't care how many teachers are around us next time,' Greg said. 'You mess with Mycroft and I'll kick your arse.'

Dylan stormed through the doorway and down the hall, ignoring Maggie who was sitting on the sofa. The front door slammed behind him and Greg heard him start his car and back out of the driveway.

Greg sighed and slumped in his seat when Maggie entered the kitchen. 'I take it it didn't go well?' Maggie asked.

'Nope,' Greg said. 'Why the hell did he come here anyway?'

'Obviously to talk you out of seeing me,' Mycroft said. 'I think he was hoping we were nothing more than fuc-' He cut himself off when he realised Maggie was standing beside him and blushed while Greg snickered.

'What was that?' the brunette asked.

'Nothing,' Mycroft said.

'Were you gonna say fuck buddies?' Greg grinned.

'Gregory,' Maggie chastised and swatted him over the back of the head.

'Sorry, sorry,' Greg grinned. Maggie rolled her eyes. 'So, um... I guess me and Dylan are done,' Greg said.

'That's too bad,' Maggie sighed. 'But perhaps it's for the best if he's just going to try and cause trouble.'

Greg nodded in agreement and Mycroft said, 'I'm sorry.'

'It's not your fault,' Greg reassured him. 'I wanna be with you, Myc. Dimmock and Joe accept that. Dylan's just being a prick.'

'Greg, stop swearing,' Maggie tutted.

'Sorry,' Greg repeated. 'I meant he's being a bast- erm... a cun- um... damn it, I can't think of a word to describe him that isn't a swear,' he admitted.

'Then just stop talking about him,' his mother suggested.

'Good idea,' Greg beamed and leaned across to kiss Mycroft's cheek. 'Er, Mum, I got a question for you.'

'Mm?' Maggie hummed as she picked up their un-touched mugs.

'Um... I'm not grounded or anything, am I?'

'No,' Maggie shook her head. She walked to the sink and tipped the tea out. 'I already said you could go to that party Saturday night.'

'Right,' Greg nodded and glanced at Mycroft. Mycroft just raised an eyebrow. 'Um... can I stay at Mycroft's tonight?'

Maggie turned away from the sink to face the two teenagers. 'You want to sleep over Mycroft's?' she asked.

Greg nodded. 'Yeah. He asked and I... you know, want to.'

'I see...' Maggie mused. 'And do his parents know you're sleeping over?' she asked, looking at Mycroft.

'Uh... no,' Greg admitted while Mycroft stared at his lap. 'His dad doesn't like me 'cause I'm gay and his mum... I really dunno if she likes me or not.' He shrugged. 'But Mrs Hudson- she's kind of their nanny- she said it was fine for me to stay over.'

'Really?'

'Yes.'

'So if I call this Mrs Hudson she'll say you can stay over?' Maggie asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft said. He hadn't actually called her but he knew she'd have no problem with it... and she'd most likely be asleep by the time Mycroft got home.

Maggie looked them both over carefully before turning back to the sink. 'Okay.'

'Seriously?' Greg asked.

Maggie chuckled. 'Yes, Greg, seriously. You're both old enough to make your own decisions. If you want to spend the night at Mycroft's, that's fine.'

'Awesome,' Greg grinned. 'I'll probably be back around eleven or twelve Saturday night, Mycroft's going to Matt's as well- oh, can Mycroft stay over Saturday night?'

Maggie had to laugh again; Greg and Mycroft spent practically every minute together. _Why did he deny his feelings for so long?_ she wondered as Greg started fidgeting, still waiting for her answer.

'Okay, fine,' Maggie finally said.

'Awesome,' Greg repeated. He bounced from his seat and kissed her on the cheek. 'You're the best, Mum!'

'Thank you, dear.'

'I'll just go pack some stuff,' Greg said and practically ran from the kitchen.

'Thank you, Ms Lestrade,' Mycroft said.

'It's Maggie, dear, remember?' Maggie said.

There was a pause before Maggie heard, 'Thank you, Ms Margaret,' followed by Mycroft exiting the kitchen. She chuckled.

'Should I bring my laptop?' Greg asked when Mycroft entered his room.

'I have a computer,' the genius replied.

'Yeah, but I got episodes of House and stuff on my laptop,' Greg said.

Mycroft shrugged. 'Bring it if you want.'

'Cool,' Greg said and slipped his computer into his schoolbag.

He'd emptied it over his bed and there were pens and books all over the place. Mycroft sat at Greg's desk and watched as his boyfriend shoved clothes into his backpack.

'What do I need to bring?' Greg asked. 'Besides clothes for tomorrow.'

'I have pyjamas you can borrow,' Mycroft said. 'I suppose just toiletries and clothes, as well as any books or DVDs you want to bring.'

'Um... I think just clothes and my laptop will do,' Greg said. 'Oh, and my toothbrush and deodorant.' He quickly darted from his room and Mycroft smiled as he heard Greg pottering around the bathroom.

He returned a minute later with his toothbrush in a plastic case as well as a bottle of deodorant. Greg quickly shoved them into his bag and zipped it.

'So we're takin' your car?' he asked.

Mycroft nodded and stood, Greg following him from the room. He waited in the hallway as Greg kissed his mum goodbye and soon the two were walking outside to Mycroft's car.

'Sherlock's staying at John's tonight,' Mycroft told his partner.

'Yeah?'

The genius nodded. 'So we don't have to worry about him... interrupting us.'

Greg grinned at the soft tone of lust that accompanied the last word. Mycroft still owed him for the blowjob earlier; not that Greg would ever demand compensation. Wrapping his lips around Mycroft's cock was pleasure enough.

But he had to admit, the thought of Mycroft going down on him in the genius' bedroom- in Siger Holmes' house- was definitely arousing.

So he was all smiles as he jumped into Mycroft's Jag, the red-head chuckling softly as he started the car.

 

{oOo}

 

The manor was silent as Mycroft and Greg walked upstairs to the genius' room. The house felt really creepy at night with all the lights turned off and Greg was using his mobile for light. Mycroft seemed to have no problem navigating the place in the pitch-black darkness, but Greg assumed that was because he was used to sneaking out.

Eventually the reached Mycroft's room and the elder Holmes silently pushed his bedroom door open and tugged Greg in. Once the door was closed Mycroft flicked the light on.

'Mrs Hudson and Mr Andrew live on the opposite side of the house, as does Anthea,' Mycroft explained as Greg threw his bag onto the bed. 'We could throw a party in here and they wouldn't hear us.'

'Really?' Greg hummed. He turned to face his boyfriend, who raised an eyebrow.

'I was kidding, Gregory,' he said. 'I don't like having parties here.'

'I wasn't thinkin' of a party,' Greg grinned. 'Well... is it a party if it's just two people?' Again Mycroft just raised an eyebrow. 'We can have some fun, just the two of us,' Greg said and flashed Mycroft a seductive smile.

Mycroft caught on and chuckled as Greg crossed the distance between them. Greg wrapped his arms loosely around Mycroft's neck and Mycroft grabbed his hips.

'Really?'

'Mm-hmm,' Greg nodded.

'And what kind of fun would we have?' Mycroft queried.

' _Well_...' Greg mused and dragged the word out, 'we could... kiss...' He trailed off as he pressed his mouth to Mycroft's, moving his lips softly to start a gentle kiss that made Mycroft's toes curl.

They kissed for a few minutes before Mycroft broke it. Greg huffed in annoyance and Mycroft chuckled. 'Go brush your teeth, okay?'

'Fine,' Greg groaned. He dragged himself over to his bag and pouted the entire trip to Mycroft's ensuite bathroom, making the genius smile.

When Greg exited the bathroom Mycroft went in to brush his own teeth. He came out to find Greg standing before the large wooden doors to the side of his balcony.

'What are you doing?' Mycroft asked.

'What's in here?' Greg asked instead of answering. He turned while gesturing at the massive doors.

'Why don't you just look?'

Greg tutted. 'Now _that_ would be an invasion of privacy, Mycroft darling.'

Mycroft chuckled and crossed the large room. 'Well, Gregory dear,' he said and kissed Greg on the cheek, 'it's a bookcase.'

'Really?' When Mycroft nodded Greg asked, 'Can I look?'

'Of course,' Mycroft said and pulled the doors open.

Greg's mouth dropped open. The bookcase had been built into the wall, making Greg realise it must have once been a closet of some type. There were seven shelves all together, each crammed with books of all types; Greg spotted a heap of Matthew Reilly and James Patterson books, as well as children's books like the Harry Potter and Percy Jackson series'. There were also biographies, textbooks, and old, leather-bound tomes where the writing had faded over time.

Greg took a step back to really get a good look and said, 'Damn.'

'What?' Mycroft questioned, confused by the look on Greg's face.

'Jesus, Myc, when you say bookcase...' Greg trailed off and shook his head.

'That's what it is,' Mycroft said. 'I don't understand.'

Greg chuckled and turned to face his boyfriend. 'It's just... shit, you really don't do things by halves.' Mycroft just raised an eyebrow. 'Forget it, it doesn't matter,' Greg shook his head. 'Um... how many books you got?'

'Six-hundred and forty-seven,' Mycroft answered straight away.

'Damn,' Greg repeated. 'And you've read them all?'

'Of course I have,' Mycroft said. 'Though I haven't liked them all. I've bought a few books and found them boring, like the Twilight series.'

''Course,' Greg nodded. 'Wow.'

'I have a few more books in my secret room,' Mycroft admitted after a minute of silence.

Greg turned to look at him. 'Oh, yeah?' Mycroft nodded. 'What kinda books?' Mycroft blushed slightly and Greg grinned. 'Mycroft?'

'Well...'

'Yes?'

'They're, um... gay literature,' the genius admitted after a few seconds. Greg giggled. 'They're not porn,' Mycroft huffed. 'Just novels about young men realising they're gay or trying to deal with it, getting their first boyfriend, themes like that.'

'I've never read a book like that,' Greg said. 'Though I remember the school counsellor tryin' to get me to read some. She reckoned I needed a good gay role model.'

Mycroft chuckled.

'Are they interesting?' Greg asked.

'Some of them are very good,' Mycroft nodded.

'You'll have to lend me some,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft nodded again before shutting the bookcase doors. When he turned around it was to see Greg sprawled across his bed trying to kick off his Chucks. Mycroft smiled and crossed to the large canopy bed. He bent down and grabbed Greg's feet, the brunette grinning at him.

Mycroft undid Greg's laces and tugged his shoes off before letting them fall to the floor. He pulled his own shoes off and lined them up beside Greg's.

'Hey, come 'ere,' Greg said.

Mycroft looked up. Greg was now on his knees and holding one hand out, index finger crooked. Mycroft smiled before climbing onto the bed. He shuffled across the mattress and Greg tugged him forward by the shirt. Their lips pressed together and Mycroft moaned, surrendering himself to his boyfriend's taste.

Greg quickly took control of the kiss, not that Mycroft seemed to mind. Greg revelled in the power- in the fact that Mycroft trusted him enough to let him lead.

It didn't take long for things to get heated; Mycroft had both hands fisted in Greg's shirt and kept trying to pull him closer, while Greg's hands were running up and down the taller boy's back. The two moaned and whimpered into each other's mouths as their hips thrust forward, each trying to get friction against their trapped erections.

They finally broke apart for air and Mycroft rested his forehead against Greg's. Greg panted heavily with him and continued to stroke his boyfriend's back.

When Mycroft finally broke the silence, it was to mutter the six sexiest words Greg had ever heard;

'I want you to fuck me.'


	49. Blood, Sex And Booze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Title:** Blood, Sex And Booze by Green Day
> 
> **Author's Note:** Sorry this took so long. A huge thank you to my beta **chasingriver** for getting this back to me. So, this is the big sex chapter, and it has explicit slash. Skip this entire chapter if you don't like that. Also, listen to the Green Day song, it's awesome :)
> 
> Anywho, enjoy!
> 
> {Dreamer}

Greg blinked. 'Erm... what?'

'I want you to fuck me,' Mycroft repeated and tugged at Greg's belt. 'Preferably right now, please.'

'I... uh...'

Mycroft was kissing his neck and Greg moaned. He tilted his head to give the red-head more access and shivered as Mycroft's lips sucked at his skin. When he felt Mycroft's fingers begin to undo his belt he snapped back to himself.

'Wait, wait,' Greg said, pushing Mycroft away by the chest. Mycroft leaned back and frowned, his lips slightly swollen and red. Greg groaned; God he was gorgeous.

'What's wrong?' Mycroft asked. Suddenly he looked worried. 'Did you not want-'

'No, no, I do!' Greg said quickly. 'Fuck, Mycroft, I've wanted you since that first bloody party.'

Mycroft's frown deepened. 'I don't understand.'

'Well, I don't... I don't want you to be doing this just because we agreed that we're actually dating,' Greg said honestly. 'We could have fucked weeks ago but you've been holding back and suddenly you _want_ to have sex and...'

Mycroft moved forward as Greg trailed off and looked the other teenager over. He reached up and cupped Greg's cheek, thumb stroking the smooth skin.

'Gregory, I was waiting because I was worried,' Mycroft said. 'I didn't want you to get sex and then move on. I waited because I wanted you to get to know me, to want me as more than just a hot body.'

Greg nodded slowly; he remembered Mycroft saying that and chewed on his lip.

'I've wanted to sleep with you since I was fifteen,' Mycroft admitted, blushing slightly and making Greg grin. 'But with you it's more, Greg, it's not just sex.'

'Okay...'

'I now know that you actually want me, that you _like_ me,' Mycroft continued. He stroked Greg's cheek again. 'I want to sleep with you, and not just because now you're my boyfriend. I want to sleep with you because if I have to go one more day without your cock in my arse I'm going to combust.'

Greg groaned and closed the gap between them, crushing his mouth against Mycroft's. Mycroft held onto his face with one hand while his other twisted in Greg's shirt.

When they broke apart for air, Mycroft hissed, 'I want you inside me, now, fucking me as hard and fast as you want.'

'Holy fucking hell,' Greg moaned, wrapping his arms around Mycroft and rutting against him. 'Are you serious?'

'Yes.'

'You... God, you want me to fuck you?' Greg asked.

' _Yes_ ,' Mycroft hissed, kissing and licking Greg's neck.

'Fuckin' hell, you've just made me the happiest guy in the world,' Greg groaned. He kissed up Mycroft's neck and face before sealing their lips together. 'You got condoms and lube?'

'I think we're beyond condoms,' Mycroft moaned, head tilted back.

'Oh God,' Greg groaned. 'I've never fucked a guy without a condom.'

'M-Me either,' Mycroft stuttered, grabbing and squeezing Greg's arse.

'If we do this I'm fucking dominating you, no topping from the bottom,' Greg said. 'I'm gonna fuck your arse so hard you can't sit or walk properly.' Mycroft whimpered and rutted harder against him. 'I'm gonna absolutely fucking wreck you,' Greg hissed.

' _Please_ ,' Mycroft begged.

'It won't always be like that, but I really think you need it,' Greg said, tugging Mycroft's bottom lip between his teeth. When he drew back he stared at Mycroft hard, their eyes both blown with lust. 'Is that alright?'

Mycroft nodded quickly and tugged Greg forward by the back of the neck. The two exchanged a sloppy, passionate kiss before Mycroft broke away.

'I've never... let anyone lead in bed,' Mycroft said softly. 'I don't know what to do.'

'Just let go,' Greg whispered and pressed delicate kisses to his partner's face. 'I don't want to hurt you, or hold you down or... or any of that shit. I just want to make you feel good; let me be in control of our pleasure.'

'You... you can hold me down,' Mycroft said softly.

Greg chuckled. 'You'd like that, huh?'

'Maybe,' the genius mumbled.

Greg smiled and kissed him again. 'Relax,' he whispered before pushing Mycroft down onto the bed. The red-head let himself fall and at Greg's directions he shuffled up the mattress until his head hit the pillows. Greg slowly crawled up his body and Mycroft felt his cock twitch in interest.

Greg's hands slowly but strongly rubbed up from Mycroft's ankles to his thighs, up his stomach and chest, before going back down to his legs again. Mycroft whimpered as Greg moved further up his body until he was pushing Mycroft's legs apart. Greg settled between them, hands still exploring Mycroft's clothed body, while he bent down to kiss at his covered chest.

Mycroft let his head tip back and for once just let himself enjoy it. Usually he'd be touching, or tugging Greg up for a kiss. But he trusted Greg- he _wanted_ Greg to be in control. So he kept his body relaxed and open.

Greg was still stroking his thighs and it sent little tingling sensations throughout the genius' body. His hands were warm, even through Mycroft's tight jeans, and his fingertips kept brushing against the bulge in Mycroft's crotch every third or fourth rub.

Mycroft moaned and glanced down to see Greg still kissing his chest lightly. His brown hair was in disarray and Mycroft said, 'Can I touch you?'

Greg chuckled against him. 'Go ahead,' he murmured. 'But slowly, m'kay?'

Mycroft nodded, even though Greg couldn't see him. He reached out with his right hand and gently threaded his fingers through his boyfriend's soft, slightly curly locks. Greg hummed and started kissing over Mycroft's left nipple and the taller boy couldn't hold in his gasp. His fingers tightened in Greg's hair and Greg chuckled again.

'Easy there,' he said softly. His left hand stroked along Mycroft's stomach and up, up, until his thumb flicked over Mycroft's other nipple. The small nub hardened beneath Mycroft's shirt and he moaned.

Greg shifted between Mycroft's legs, which moved and hooked around Greg's thighs. Mycroft couldn't help but rub the heel of his foot up and down Greg's leg.

'Mm,' Greg hummed before grabbing the hem of Mycroft's shirt and tugging. 'This has to come off.'

Mycroft sat up and quickly stripped, throwing his shirt across the bed and onto the floor. Greg smiled and the genius said, 'Your shirt?'

'Oh, you want it off?' Greg grinned. He played with the hem of his own shirt. 'Ask nicely.'

Mycroft huffed but said, 'Gregory, _please_ take your shirt off.'

'I like this,' Greg smiled as he tugged his shirt off. 'You, asking for my permission. Should do it more often.' Mycroft rolled his eyes and Greg chuckled. 'You know what, I don't wanna be on top anymore,' Greg said. He rolled onto his back, head hitting the pillows, and looked up at his boyfriend. 'Come here.'

Mycroft swallowed thickly and straddled his boyfriend's hips.

'Come here,' Greg repeated.

Mycroft slowly lowered himself until his and Greg's torsos were pressed together. Greg let out a moan and Mycroft shivered at the feel of hot skin on skin. Greg wrapped an arm around Mycroft's shoulders while his other hand threaded through Mycroft's hair. He tugged his partner forward and Mycroft moaned as their mouths met.

Unlike the first time they'd kissed, Greg was in complete control. He crushed his lips to Mycroft's and the genius whimpered. A hot tongue traced his bottom lip before Mycroft opened up. Greg absolutely devoured his mouth; his tongue traced Mycroft's gums and teeth before flicking over the roof of his mouth. And then it tangled with Mycroft's tongue, the two dancing in the red-head's mouth until both were fighting for breath.

Mycroft was impossibly hard and ground his groin against Greg's. He felt the older boy's erection press against his and moaned into Greg's mouth.

Suddenly Greg ripped their lips apart and Mycroft gasped as the hand that had been gently touching his neck tugged at his hair painfully hard. His eyes- which he didn't remember closing- flew open and found Greg's.

'Did I say you could rub against me?' Greg demanded. Mycroft was too stunned to answer and earned another sharp tug against his scalp. 'Did I?'

'N-No,' Mycroft grunted.

'No, I didn't,' Greg scowled. 'So don't fucking do it!'

He tugged Mycroft down and fucked the genius' mouth with his tongue. Mycroft was sure he'd never get the taste of Greg out of his mouth, not with the way the older boy's tongue was pushing into his throat, into every single part of him.

Just when Mycroft was sure he'd pass out from lack of air and arousal, Greg pulled away.

Gentle lips pressed against Mycroft's ear and he both felt and heard Greg panting heavily as he hissed, 'You said you wanted me to dominate you... do you?'

'Y-Yes,' Mycroft answered.

'Well do as you're fucking told!'

'You didn't tell me to do anything!' Mycroft retorted.

Greg chuckled. 'Oh, naughty little boy toy, huh? Well I'll show you.'

He rolled them before Mycroft could react and ripped at the red-head's jeans. By the time Mycroft caught his breath both he _and_ Gregory were naked and Greg was lying atop him.

Though they'd been naked together before- and had sex, for that matter- this still felt different. They were going to have the type of sex they'd both wanted since that party at Matt Sanders' house. Greg was actually going to be _inside_ Mycroft. It made the genius feel aroused, nervous, and annoyed all that the same time.

On one hand, he really couldn't wait to have Greg inside him; his cock stretching, filling, making Mycroft _burn_. On the other, Mycroft was worried Greg wouldn't like it, that _he_ wouldn't like it; what if they were better off sticking to frottage and blowjobs?

And then, of course, there was the slight annoyance; Greg was fucking Mycroft. _Mycroft_ was on the bottom here. Mycroft Holmes usually topped; he was usually the one doing the fucking. Yet here he was, letting Greg take control. The fact that it turned him on was both exhilarating and annoying.

Mycroft's thoughts really weren't making much sense. Neither were his feelings for that matter. He _wanted_ Greg to take control; so why the fuck was he fighting himself?

Suddenly Greg's hands stilled against Mycroft's stomach and the red-head blinked back to himself.

'What's wrong?' Greg asked.

'What? Nothing.'

'Mycroft,' Greg sighed and sat back, all traces of dominance gone. 'Come on, tell me what's wrong.'

Mycroft sat up and threaded his fingers through Greg's hair. He leaned forward and pressed their lips together softly before he pulled back, a smile on his face. 'Honestly, Gregory, nothing’s wrong. I was just thinking too hard.'

'Are you sure?' Greg asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'I want you to fuck me; I want you to be in control. Please don't stop.'

Greg looked Mycroft over carefully before their eyes once more locked; Mycroft let his defences down so Greg could see that he really did want this. After at least three minutes of silence Greg's warm, rough hand pressed to Mycroft's abdomen.

Mycroft let himself tip back so he was once again lying on his back with Greg between his legs. Greg kissed him again and Mycroft got lost in it; Greg's warm lips and wet tongue; Greg's slightly calloused hands stroking up and down his stomach and hips; Greg's stockier body pressed hard against his own.

He moaned against Greg's lips when their cocks lined up and Greg started rolling his hips. Mycroft had to rip their lips apart to breathe and Greg buried his face in the genius' neck as he continued to move his lower half.

'Oh God,' Mycroft moaned.

'Feels good?' Greg asked in a breathy mumble.

'Uh-huh,' Mycroft nodded.

The brunette smiled before drawing back and pecking Mycroft on the lips. 'Stay,' he ordered. Mycroft nodded. 'Lube?'

'T-Top drawer,' Mycroft said. 'Bedside table to your right.'

Greg smiled as he slid across the duvet on his knees. He pulled the top drawer open and pushed aside a few odds and ends before finding a half-empty bottle of lubricant.

'And what exactly do you use this for, Mr Holmes?' Greg asked. He crawled back over to Mycroft, who hadn't moved an inch.

'I...' Mycroft said before clamping his lips shut.

'Ah, ah,' Greg said, 'you gotta answer me.'

Mycroft groaned but said, 'I masturbate.'

'How?' Greg asked.

'Um... using my own hand is better when it's wet; feels better,' Mycroft admitted.

Greg smiled. 'Do you ever use your fingers?' he asked. Mycroft peeled his eyes open when he heard the cap of the bottle pop open. He watched Greg squeeze a generous amount of gel onto three fingers. 'Well?' Greg prodded.

'S-Sometimes,' Mycroft said.

'And... do you think about me?' Greg asked. He was spreading gel along his fingers, making sure they were all coated, and Mycroft swallowed thickly when chocolate brown eyes flicked up to his face.

'Yes,' he admitted.

Greg smiled. 'Good boy. You get a treat for bein' honest.'

Mycroft's hips jolted when he felt cold, wet fingers touch his arse.

'Shh,' Greg hummed. 'You want this, don't you?'

'Yes,' Mycroft said.

Greg slowly pushed a finger between the red-head's cheeks, touching his entrance and making Mycroft whimper. 'You want my big fingers in your tight hole?' Greg asked.

'God yes.'

The older boy chuckled. 'How much do you want it?' he asked while his finger teased Mycroft's puckered entrance.

Mycroft's breathing hitched and his legs shook. It had been so long since he'd bottomed.

'Gonna answer me?' Greg's finger moved away and Mycroft moaned.

'No, no, no!'

Greg snickered.

'Please,' Mycroft begged, shuffling his hips, trying to get Greg's finger back.

'Answer me and I'll touch your arse again,' Greg said. His fingers ghosted along Mycroft's inner-thigh, leaving goosebumps behind.

'Uh,' Mycroft moaned. His head flopped back onto the pillows and he breathed in deeply. 'What was the question?'

Greg chuckled and continued touching Mycroft softly. 'How much do you want it?'

'Bad,' Mycroft said immediately and Greg smiled. 'Please, Greg. I need your fingers.'

'Do you?'

'Yes!' Mycroft whimpered. His legs twitched, both wanting Greg's touch and not wanting it on his inner-thighs.

'Hmm... m'kay, since you were so sweet to answer me,' Greg said. He went back to Mycroft's arse, his fingers slipping between Mycroft's cheeks easily. He went back to rubbing the genius' entrance.

Mycroft moaned and his fingers dug into the sheets beneath him. It felt so good, just having Greg touch him _there_. The heat in his stomach was building to an impossible height and he was sure his cock was going to explode. But Greg seemed in no hurry to move things along-

\- that was what Mycroft thought until a thick finger breached his entrance and was quickly swallowed to the knuckle.

He couldn't stop from crying out and his top half leapt off the bed. Fingers digging into the sheets, he stared at Greg with lust-blown eyes. The older boy smirked as he pushed his finger all the way in. Greg had to bite his lip; Jesus _Christ_ was Mycroft tight!

'Okay there?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded before slowly settling back down on the bed. 'Fuck.'

Greg chuckled. 'Feel good?'

'Hnn...' Mycroft nodded again, 'real good.'

Greg slowly drew his finger out before going back in. Not wanting to hurt Mycroft, and knowing his boyfriend didn't bottom often, Greg kept his pace slow and gentle. As much as he wanted to throw Mycroft down and fuck him into the mattress, he needed to prepare the red-head first. The fucking would come later; Greg would make sure of it.

So Greg slowly but surely prepared his boyfriend, getting harder and harder listening to the soft whimpers and gentle moans Mycroft was giving.

Mycroft himself was lost in a sea of pleasure. He felt so very full, especially when Greg had three fingers in him. His own fingers were still digging into the sheets and his legs shook either side of Greg. He was panting and generally making a fool of himself, but he couldn't bring himself to care. It just felt too good, having Greg's fingers inside _him_. They'd never crossed that line, only Mycroft had ever had his fingers inside Greg.

And now here they were, Greg was about to be inside him. Mycroft still couldn't get over how amazing that sounded. He'd never been this excited or turned on. He didn't know what it was about Greg that made him so aroused, but Mycroft never wanted to be without it.

Mycroft was brought back to reality when Greg's fingers pulled out of his stretched entrance. He blinked rapidly and glanced up to see Greg with the lube bottle. He poured a generous amount onto his hand and used it slick his cock up while he tossed the bottle over his shoulder.

Mycroft swallowed thickly when Greg said, 'Roll over,' but did as he was told. He felt warm, wet hands grab his hips and understood instantly. Quickly he scrambled onto all fours and Greg chuckled. 'So eager, hmm?'

Mycroft didn't say anything.

'So eager,' Greg elaborated, 'to have my cock in you.'

Mycroft definitely whimpered quite loudly at that.

'You ready?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded and inhaled sharply when he felt the tip of Greg's cock press against his entrance. Slowly- so slowly that Mycroft was just about ready to scream- Greg pushed the head of his prick in.

Mycroft's head dropped forward and he groaned. It had been _months_ since he'd bottomed... now that Mycroft thought about it, the last person he'd bottomed for had been John Ralling.

And why the fuck was he thinking about that when Gregory Lestrade's cock was slowly sliding into him?

Oh, yeah... maybe because it was _slowly_.

'Faster!' Mycroft begged.

'Fuck off,' was Greg's reply. 'I'm in charge here.'

Mycroft whimpered. Greg's words made his skin tingle and his cock throb. Fuck, that shouldn't have been hot. Greg saying that _shouldn't_ have made Mycroft's arousal double.

There was nothing Mycroft could do. He'd agreed to let Greg be in control. So he just knelt there and whimpered as Greg slowly but surely pushed in.

Greg was about average in length, but he more than made up for that in girth. He was the thickest guy Mycroft had ever bottomed for and his muscles were making that known; despite the preparation, there was still a sharp burn that accompanied the wonderful feeling of Greg entering him.

Mycroft hissed and his hips jolted back, trying to pull away from the hurt. Greg stopped immediately and rubbed Mycroft's back. 'You okay?'

'Uh... just... a minute.'

'You sure?'

'You're... um...'

'What?' Greg asked, worry clear in his voice.

'You're the... thickest guy... to...'

A grin tugged at Greg's lips, not that Mycroft could see it. He did hear the smugness that underlined Greg's words as he spoke. 'I am, huh? Well... how about that.'

'Nnn...'

'Not the longest, though?'

He thrust a little faster and Mycroft's arms almost gave out beneath him. 'Oh, fuck.'

'What was that?' Greg teased.

'Please,' Mycroft whimpered. He thrust his hips back slightly and finally took Greg in completely.

Greg wanted to shout; _he_ was in charge here, not Mycroft! But the feelings that swept through him washed everything else away. Holy _fuck_ was Mycroft tight! And warm... so goddamn warm. It felt like hot velvet wrapped around his cock, or silk. Just... something good, Greg really didn't know.

After a few minutes where all the two teenagers did was gasp and shake, Greg finally got control of himself.

'You litter fucker,' he growled. 'Who said you could fuck yourself on my cock?'

'Gregory-' Mycroft cut himself off with a cry when Greg drew out before slamming back in. 'Oh _God_.'

Greg wasn't going slowly now; he wasn't waiting for Mycroft to get used to him; no, he was fucking Mycroft as long and hard as he goddamn wanted.

And Mycroft was in heaven.

All his senses were in overdrive as Greg drove his cock over and over again into Mycroft's willing body. Mycroft felt his muscles scream in protest as they were forced apart, but all that did was turn him on even more. The wet sound of Greg sliding in, the sharp slap of skin against skin, and Greg's huffing pants while he dug his nails into Mycroft's hips were all so fucking arousing Mycroft was sure he was going to explode.

'Fuck, you're so tight... so good,' Greg moaned. He scratched one hand down Mycroft's back and the genius arched beneath him. 'Feel so good wrapped around my cock,' Greg continued. 'Oh Christ.'

He was relentless in his pace and Mycroft felt the bed shake beneath them. The headboard was in danger of crashing into the wall and the canopy above them swung back and forth. But Greg continued to pound into his boyfriend and Mycroft felt his arms weakening under the strain.

Mycroft collapsed onto the bed suddenly and took Greg with him. The two were still as they breathed heavily and Greg managed to say, 'You alright?'

'Y-Yes,' Mycroft panted. 'Sorry, it was just... too intense.'

'Sorry.'

'Not your fault,' Mycroft mumbled.

Greg waited a minute until Mycroft nodded for him to continue. Carefully, he rolled them both onto their sides until they were spooning, Greg still inside the other teenager.

Mycroft took a few deep breaths and said, 'I'm sorry, it's just been a while since I bottomed.'

'S'fine,' Greg said.

'You're very good.'

Greg chuckled and kissed Mycroft's shoulder. 'You sure know how to stroke a guy's ego.'

'Mm...' Mycroft hummed and thrust back, taking more of Greg's cock into him. Greg let out a moan and Mycroft said, 'Gonna fuck me or not?'

Greg sighed. 'Cheeky little slut,' he hummed while he kissed Mycroft's shoulder. 'You know what I do to cheeky little sluts?' He drew his cock all the way out and Mycroft whimpered at the loss. Slowly, achingly slowly, Greg pushed back in halfway...

... and then he pulled out again.

'Please, don't tease me,' Mycroft moaned.

Greg continued to, though. He thrust in fast and hard before pulling out, and then circled the head of his cock around Mycroft's entrance before dipping in lightly.

Mycroft was whimpering and trying to thrust back, but kept stopping himself at the last second. Greg grinned; Mycroft was finally giving in and doing what Greg wanted. Greg hadn't asked him not to push back, Mycroft just knew not to.

He was finally submitting.

'Good boy,' Greg cooed. 'You get a reward for being such a good little boy.'

Mycroft opened his mouth to ask what but promptly shouted. Greg had thrust all the way in and kept thrusting; on his side, his balls slapped against Mycroft's arse. The bed rocked with their rhythm and the sharp sound of flesh against flesh echoed around the room along with Mycroft's moans and Greg's grunts.

Suddenly Mycroft found his head tilted back and Greg's lips pressed against his own. Greg drew him in for a hard, passionate, absolutely harsh kiss that stole Mycroft's breath and bruised his lips. His skin felt like it was on fire and he sweat slicked both his and Greg's bodies.

When Greg finally broke away, his breathing harsh, Mycroft moaned.

'Like that?' Greg asked.

'Y-Yes,' Mycroft gasped.

Greg wasn't hitting his prostate but he was getting pretty damn close. And Mycroft had the feeling his boyfriend was purposely missing...

... which just made it that much hotter.

Greg was kissing him again and Mycroft let himself get lost in the pleasure; Greg's skilled, plump lips sucking his own; Greg's tongue licking up and down his gums, the roof of his mouth, his own tongue; Greg's right arm wrapped around Mycroft's neck while his left hand stroked up and down Mycroft's chest, his hips, his leg.

'Oh God,' Mycroft cried out when Greg wrenched his left leg up. The brunette held it steadily above their bodies and lifted his hips off the mattress as he ploughed into Mycroft. 'Oh God, fuck, _shit_!' Mycroft grunted with each thrust.

Greg let go of Mycroft's leg and, like a good submissive, Mycroft kept it where it was. He shuddered and moaned when he felt Greg's hand skim up and down his thigh before pinching his arse.

'Fuck yes!'

'You like that?' Greg asked.

'Y-Yes,' Mycroft grunted.

'Hmm... Mycroft, I want you to touch yourself.' Mycroft hesitated but when Greg growled, 'Touch yourself!' he complied. His right left hand wrapped around his cock and slowly pulled from root to top.

'O-Oh...'

'How's that feel?' Greg asked.

'S-So good...'

'Mm, greedy little cock slut, aren't you?' Greg hissed. 'You like a cock in your arse and a hand on your own dick, don't ya?'

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded in agreement.

'Hmm...' Greg hummed before his hand moved higher. He rubbed up and down Mycroft's hip and side before his finger-tips skimmed the red-head's stomach. He climbed higher and higher until Mycroft felt a finger circle his nipple.

'FUCK!' Mycroft arched off of Greg before slamming himself back down, forcing Greg's cock in deep and making the brunette grunt hoarsely. Mycroft felt pleasure race down his body from his nipple and join the swirl of o-fucking-kay that was steadily building in his belly. 'Oh fuck, Greg, Jesus Christ,' Mycroft moaned.

'I take it... you like that?' Greg panted.

'Y-Y-Yes,' was Mycroft's choked reply.

'Good to know,' Greg said. He pinched Mycroft's nipple again, thrust in, and licked his way from the taller boy's collar bone to his lips, capturing them in a passionate, wet kiss.

Mycroft shuddered and the hand on his cock stilled; he wasn't going to last. It felt too good... he was too full... Gregory was too beautiful...

Just as he felt his orgasm climb, Greg was pulling out and rolling onto his back, bringing Mycroft with him. Mycroft yelped as he found himself tugged onto Greg's lap and blinked down at his boyfriend.

'Ride me,' Greg ordered, thrusting up so his cock slid between Mycroft's cheeks, making Mycroft moan. 'Show me how good you can ride cock, Mycroft. Come on, I wanna watch your face as I fuck you.'

Mycroft moaned again and tried to kiss Greg, only for Greg to grab his head and twist him away. He whimpered against Greg's neck but lifted his hips, feeling Greg's cock slide down his cheeks before the blunt head pressed at his entrance.

'Ride me,' Greg hissed before gabbing Mycroft's hips and forcing him down. Mycroft cried out as Greg penetrated him in one slick movement, his cock suddenly stretching Mycroft's muscles again, adding a delicious burn and abused feeling to his pleasure.

He started moving immediately, remembering Greg's orders. He dragged himself up until only the head of his boyfriend's cock was penetrating him before dropping back down, letting gravity do most of the work.

Mycroft began rolling his hips, making sure he felt every inch of Greg inside him, and Greg let out a moan as he watched. Mycroft's head was tipped back, pink lips parted and eyes shut as he fucked himself on Greg's cock.

Greg's hands roamed up and down Mycroft's chest, brushing over both nipples and making Mycroft moan. Greg grabbed Mycroft's arse and squeezed hard as he used the younger boy's body to yank himself upright. He latched onto one of Mycroft's nipples, teeth digging into skin and tongue laving over the hard, warm nub.

'G-Greg,' Mycroft choked out. He rolled his hips harder and clenching his muscles.

'Don't stop,' Greg mumbled against his chest. 'Keep going, Mycroft, you're doing so good.'

The praise went straight to Mycroft's cock and he started lifting himself up and down again, muscles pulling at Greg's shaft, making them both grunt in pleasure.

'Fuck, Mycroft, you're such a good little slut, aren't you?' Greg hissed before licking his way across the red-head's chest and to his other nipple. He nipped at it before sucking, Mycroft letting out a hiss of air. 'Look at you, the posh, perfect Mycroft fucking Holmes,' Greg continued, 'riding the local town's boy slut. What's that make you, huh? A boy slut's whore? A boy slut's fuck toy?'

Mycroft never realised that dirty talk could make you feel like _this_. Of course he'd called his various shags names, had spanked them too, but having Greg hiss filthy things to him was just so much better.

Greg wrenched Mycroft's head back and Mycroft cried out in pain, falling still on Greg's cock as his hair was twisted painfully. 'Stop fucking thinking!' Greg hissed, biting hard at his ear. 'You're not here to think, you're here as a fuck toy, got it?!'

He slapped Mycroft's arse and dug his fingers in, Mycroft gasping in pain before quickly moaning in pleasure.

'Got it?' Greg snarled again, slapping Mycroft _hard_.

'Y-Yes,' Mycroft choked out.

'So fucking ride me!' Greg shouted.

Mycroft whimpered and drew himself back up, falling into a quick, furious rhythm. Greg's eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head as Mycroft rode his cock like a man possessed.

He rolled his hips back and forth, Greg's cock forced to fill each and every inch of Mycroft's tight hole. His fingers dug hard into Greg's shoulders as he moved, body glistening with sweat and cock dark red and swollen between their stomachs.

Mycroft's back arched as he started moving up and down again, Greg sliding wetly in and out of him, Mycroft's muscles squeezing around his aching flesh so fucking deliciously. Mycroft's head was lolling back, lips parted as he panted and cursed beneath his breath. Greg squeezed his arse tightly, forcing his cheeks together so Mycroft could feel the thick cock that penetrated him that much more.

'Oh God, Greg,' Mycroft moaned, head tipping forward to rest against Greg's shoulder. He continued to move, legs braced against the bed as he bounced up and down.

His hole felt impossibly tight around Greg's cock, and he just seemed to be getting tighter as he fucked himself over and over again. Mycroft was breathing harshly against Greg's neck, and moaned every time Greg's fingers dug painfully into his arse.

'What do you want, Mycroft?' Greg whispered in his ear, thrusting up whenever he could. 'Tell me what you want.'

'I... w-want you,' Mycroft choked out, 'to hit... hit... m-me...'

'Hit you?' Greg asked.

'S-Slap me...' Mycroft groaned.

Greg smirked and chuckled in his ear. 'Mycroft Holmes wants me to slap his arse like a naughty little boy?'

'Uh-huh,' Mycroft grunted as he pulled himself up and down.

'Mycroft's a little pain slut,' Greg hissed, kneading Mycroft's arse. 'Tell me how much you like it.'

He slapped his right palm against Mycroft's arse and felt the taller boy flinch and immediately clench around him. 'Oh God.'

'Well?' Greg demanded, doing it again and hearing Mycroft hiss.

'It feels... _ah_ \- so f-fucking... good,' Mycroft moaned, back once more arching. 'Again, p-please.'

Greg smirked and slapped him again, stifling his own groan when Mycroft squeezed tightly around him.

'Fuck, Greg,' Mycroft grunted. 'God, so fucking good.'

'That's it, baby, tell me how good it is,' Greg whispered huskily. 'Tell Greg how good it is.'

Mycroft continued to moan and ramble as Greg slapped him, his arse soon stinging wonderfully, his entire body poised and ready to snap at any moment. But as soon as he felt an orgasm approaching Greg's hand was there, fingers curling around his cock and making his climax die down.

Mycroft whimpered and tipped forward, clutching Greg's body tightly. 'Fucking hell,' Greg moaned, trying to stop from coming. Mycroft was just so fucking hot, Greg didn't think he could last much longer.

So Greg rolled Mycroft off him, the genius whining when Greg slipped out. Greg immediately wrenched Mycroft's legs apart and thrust back into his aching hole, Mycroft crying out as he was suddenly filled again.

'I wanna fuck you on your back, so you can watch me,' Greg growled. He pulled out quickly before thrusting back in, balls slapping against Mycroft's arse. He knew he'd hit Mycroft's prostate when the younger teen thrust his head back into the bed, fingers grappling with the sheets.

He tried to reach up and touch Greg, but Greg grabbed his wrists and forced his arms above his head, Mycroft arching beneath him as he was suddenly pinned to the mattress.

' _Noo_ ,' Greg moaned, licking at Mycroft's neck as he fucked him. 'You're here for me, remember?' When Mycroft failed to answer Greg thrust in harshly, the slick wet sound of him forcing himself in making both teenagers shudder in need. 'Remember?' Greg demanded.

'Y-Y-Yes,' Mycroft choked out, body writhing beneath Greg's.

Greg shuffled until he had both of Mycroft's legs over his shoulders, one hand still keeping Mycroft's wrists pinned, the other slapping the younger boy's upturned arse. He leaned forward, whispering seductively in Mycroft's ear.

'Beg like a good little cock slut. Beg me to fuck you, Mycroft Holmes, like a fucking whore.'

Mycroft moaned and peeled his eyes open when Greg's hips stilled. He swallowed thickly but still panted as he said, 'F-Fuck me, please.'

'Please?' Greg echoed, drawing out a little.

Mycroft whimpered. 'Please, Greg, fuck me,' he begged. 'I need it, hard and rough, _please_.'

'Want me to pound you into the mattress?' Greg asked.

'God, yes!' Mycroft practically shouted, bucking his hips and making Greg slide out.

'Oh, you naughty little man,' Greg said, jamming himself back in.

Mycroft's mouth dropped open in a silent scream as Greg fucked him furiously, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Both teenagers were panting loudly, bodies covered in sweat as they fucked, faces and bodies bright red. Mycroft's bed was beginning to rock noisily, the headboard thumping into the wall with a _thud-thud-thud_ , but neither could see anything beyond the blazing pleasure raking through their bodies.

Finally Greg let himself go, grabbing Mycroft's hips and pulling him across the bed. He thrust at the same time, Mycroft crying out in pleasure as Greg slammed repeatedly into his prostate. His fingers were ripping at the bed, entire body rubbing against the sweat-stained sheets, and his eyes were practically black as they focused on Greg's.

'Come, you filthy little slut,' Greg snarled. 'I want you to come with my cock in you, taking it on your back like some common slut.'

'Oh fuck,' Mycroft moaned, hips lifting off the bed.

'Touch yourself,' Greg ordered. 'Come all over your hand like the teenage slut you are.'

Mycroft's hand immediately wrapped around himself, fingers tight as he squeezed his throbbing, red flesh. His fingers glided through the copious amounts of pre-come that had leaked all over his shaft and he cried out, arching off of Greg.

Greg bent over Mycroft, leaving enough room so the taller teen could jerk himself off, and ploughed into Mycroft hard and fast. He buried his face in Mycroft's neck and licked, kissed, and bit into his skin.

Mycroft impaled himself on Greg's cock and screamed a hoarse, ' _GREG_!' as he climaxed, white-hot come exploding between their connected stomachs. Mycroft's muscles clamped down and Greg choked on his own scream as an orgasm was torn from him, his cock twitching as it leaked into Mycroft's fucked body.

'Oh fuck, Mycroft,' Greg rambled, face pressed against the red-head's heated skin. 'Mycroft, Mycroft, fucking hell, oh God, you're fucking amazing.'

Mycroft just whimpered below him, hand still moving over his leaking cock. Greg gave a few shallow, half-hearted thrusts as he milked his own orgasm, and soon the two had finally gone still, Greg still swallowed by Mycroft's arse and Mycroft lying pinned beneath him.

When Greg had the energy to move he rolled clear, Mycroft wincing as his abused hole was stretched one last time.

'M'sorry,' Greg mumbled.

Mycroft stared at the ceiling, blinking rapidly, hand resting against the mess on his stomach. 'S... s... s'fine,' he slurred, lips barely moving. 'Just... tiss... tiss... ues.'

Greg took that to mean "clean up" and crawled across the mattress and over Mycroft to grab the tissues sitting atop the bedside table. He pulled out a fair few and used them to mop up the mess on Mycroft's stomach, and the come leaking from his still-dilated entrance.

Greg wiped his own cock clean before dumping the tissues on the bedside table and crawling back to Mycroft. 'Hey,' he whispered, touching Mycroft's shoulder gently. 'You okay?'

Mycroft's eyes briefly fluttered open and a stupid grin tugged at his lips.

'Hi there,' Greg smiled, leaning down to kiss him gently. 'You okay?' he repeated.

'Mm...' Mycroft hummed, 'I'm... I'm... s'fine.'

Greg giggled; he'd made Mycroft Holmes _speechless_.

'Sh... shut... quiet,' Mycroft grumbled, fingers twitching and hand lifting slightly off his stomach before flopping back down. 'Slap... y'self... _forme_ ,' Mycroft slurred, making Greg giggle again.

He picked up Mycroft's hand and pressed it against his face. 'Happy?'

'Mmm...'

Greg smiled and crawled back down the bed to grab the bunched-up blankets. He tugged the thinnest one over his and Mycroft's sweaty bodies before lying beside him. Mycroft immediately moved, snuggling into Greg's side and yawning widely.

'You sure you're okay?' Greg asked.

'Mm...' Mycroft mumbled. 'S... sleep... talk... l-later...'

'M'kay,' Greg said, pressing a kiss to Mycroft's sweaty forehead.

'G... g'night, Gr...Greg'ry... d-dear,' Mycroft mumbled.

Greg smiled. 'Night, Mycroft darling.'


	50. In The Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Title:** In The Street [cover] by Cheap Trick

When Greg woke Mycroft was still firmly wrapped around him. He grinned when he remembered the previous night; Mycroft's hot, thin body pressed against his own; Mycroft's tight heat squeezing around him; Mycroft begging to be fucked, spanked, _dominated._

He shuffled about on the large bed- still amazed they even _came_ in this size- and looked down at the sleeping teenager. It didn't take long for Mycroft to snort awake, aware even while asleep that someone was watching him.

He peeled a sleepy eye open and blinked a bit before settling his bright blue irises on Greg. He smiled and yawned, unwrapping himself from Greg and stretching.

'How you feeling?' Greg asked, well aware that he'd fucked Mycroft rather hard.

'Mm...' Mycroft moaned, rolling his neck. 'My arse hurts.'

'Sorry.'

Mycroft chuckled and leaned across the bed, pressing his lips against Greg's. 'No, it's good; _very_ good.'

'Yeah?' Greg asked when they broke apart.

'Best sex ever,' Mycroft smiled.

Greg smiled back, but there was a little niggling in the back of his mind. He didn't think he could constantly dominate Mycroft. It was fun, yeah, and something Mycroft _definitely_ needed, but being a full-time dom just wasn't Greg. He preferred being on the bottom, and he just didn't get off on domination enough to do it to his boyfriend all the time.

Mycroft sensed his worry and leaned forward again, this time for a hard, passionate kiss that had Greg gasping. Suddenly Greg was forced onto his back, Mycroft climbing onto his lap and pushing himself forward.

Their semi-hard cocks rubbed together and Greg groaned, thoughts suddenly vanishing as Mycroft expertly got him to full hardness. When they had to break apart for air Mycroft reached for the lube, only to find it wasn't on the bedside table.

'Where's the lubricant?' he asked.

Greg blinked up at him, dazed, and tried to remember where he'd left it the night before. 'Um...'

Mycroft climbed off his boyfriend and crawled across the bed looking. Greg wanted to help, really he did, but Mycroft's arse was _right_ there; what else was he supposed to do but stare at it?

Finally Mycroft found the bottle and sighed, leaning back and showing Greg. They'd squished it sometime during their romp last night and the gel had exploded all over the mattress and sheets, leaving a large, semi-dried stain on the blanket.

'Um... sorry,' Greg mumbled. 'You got more, right?'

'You owe me another tube, got that?' Mycroft said as he climbed off the bed. He disappeared into his walk-in wardrobe, eventually coming back with an un-opened bottle. He pulled the plastic off the top and tossed that aside while flipping the cap open.

He re-positioned himself on Greg's lap and kissed him as he slicked up the older teen's digits.

'You sure?' Greg asked when they broke apart. 'I fucked you pretty-'

Mycroft sealed their lips back together, smiling when he drew back. 'Yes, Greg, I'm sure.'

'M'kay, just don't complain when you can't walk without remembering my dick in your arse,' Greg said, wrapping one arm around Mycroft's back and pulling him forward.

Mycroft braced himself on his hands as Greg's fingers slid between his cheeks, quickly finding his entrance and rubbing. He moaned loudly when Greg's index finger breached him, soon swallowed to the knuckle.

Mycroft was still loose from last night but Greg wanted to make sure he didn't hurt his partner. So he pulled his finger out before going back in and pressed his lips to Mycroft's warm neck, kissing and licking as he added another finger.

After burying three fingers into Mycroft, Greg finally drew back. He grabbed the lube and Mycroft shifted so Greg could slick himself up. When he was done he put the tube on the bedside table and said, 'See? No more spills.'

Mycroft chuckled and kissed him again before grabbing Greg's cock and moving it to his entrance. After a bit of shifting Greg was pushing in, both moaning as he was slowly but surely swallowed by Mycroft's heat.

Mycroft came to a rest atop his boyfriend and rolled his hips, stifling another moan when Greg moved inside him.

'Okay?' Greg asked, rubbing Mycroft's hips.

'Mm,' Mycroft nodded. It still felt... different, Mycroft thought. He'd been penetrated plenty of times (though he _did_ prefer to top) and each and every time it was fine, it was... _nice_ , and it got him off (for the most part). But it was never satisfying, never good enough. There was always something... missing.

But with Greg it felt right, perfect, absolutely amazing. Greg wasn't even _moving_ and Mycroft still felt more turned on than he ever had in his life.

'Mycroft?' Greg questioned, sounding worried.

Mycroft looked down and smiled, pulling up a bit before dropping back down. Greg groaned and wrapped a hand around Mycroft's neck, tugging him down for a kiss.

'You okay?' he asked again.

'Fine,' Mycroft said. He braced himself against Greg's toned chest and started moving, drawing himself up and down Greg's thick, rock-hard cock. He let out a moan as Greg grabbed his hips, rocking back and forth slowly. 'Fuck, Greg.'

Greg grinned and moved a bit faster, hands rubbing up and down Mycroft's sides and making the taller boy shiver.

Mycroft bent down to seal their lips together, the two licking into each other's mouths as they had sex. Mycroft's hands pressed to the bed either side of Greg's head and he moaned when Greg planted both feet on the bed and started thrusting up.

'Oh fuck,' Mycroft grunted.

'You're so beautiful,' Greg said, breathing becoming heavy as Mycroft kissed and licked his jaw. 'Fuck, Mycroft.'

Mycroft shuddered violently at the use of his full name; another thing that had never happened before. Everyone knew him as Mikey, or just _you_. He'd never been called Mycroft during sex and for some reason it made everything just that much better.

'Mycroft,' Greg moaned again when Mycroft started moving faster, rolling his hips to fuck himself on Greg's shaft. 'Jesus Christ, you're so tight.'

Mycroft grunted against Greg's neck, eyes shut as he was assaulted by pleasure. He let out a yelp when Greg flipped them, Mycroft suddenly on his back with Greg between his legs. Greg slid back in and snapped his hips, cock hitting Mycroft's prostate and making him cry out.

'God, look at you,' Greg breathed as he kissed and licked at Mycroft's neck, his jaw. 'You're so fucking beautiful, Mycroft, just... fuck.'

Mycroft wrapped his legs around Greg's waist, his arms around his neck, and drew him in for a sloppy, passionate kiss. 'F-Fuck me, Greg,' he begged. 'Please, fuck me.'

Greg grinned and started moving faster, snapping his hips to bury himself in Mycroft's heat. His left hand pushed beneath Mycroft's back and lifted him so they could continue kissing, chests pressed together. His other hand slid down Mycroft's over-heated skin before wrapping around his cock and pulling.

'Oh God,' Mycroft whimpered, breaking their kiss to press his face against Greg's neck. 'Fuck, Greg, fucking hell!'

Greg was beyond intelligent words now, instead just grunting and moaning as Mycroft's muscles tightened around him, as Mycroft breathed heavily in his ear and pressed his sweat-soaked body against Greg's own.

Mycroft sank his teeth into Greg's neck as he came, muscles clamping down and come shooting between their stomachs. Greg managed two more thrusts before he was coming with a strangled, ' _M-Mycroft_!'

He emptied himself into the slack body beneath his, panting heavily as he slowly lowered Mycroft back to the bed. Mycroft watched with sated eyes as Greg grabbed more tissues to clean them up.

When he was done he flopped onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as he tried to get his breathing under control.

'I've never had morning sex,' Greg commented. 'Definitely nice.'

Mycroft chuckled before quickly sobering, tugging at the sheets beneath him. 'I was worried,' he admitted softly.

'Worried?' Greg echoed.

'Mm,' Mycroft nodded. 'I thought maybe normal sex with you wouldn't be as good as the domination/submission sex.'

Greg chewed on his lip, turning to stare at Mycroft with worry mounting in his chest. When it exploded to full-panic he said, 'A-And?'

Mycroft turned to look at him and Greg stared into his eyes, looking for the answer, but as usual finding nothing. And then Mycroft grinned and kissed him, a hard, passionate kiss that made Greg's stomach flip and his cock threaten to harden again.

When they broke apart Mycroft pecked a quick kiss to Greg's lips and said, 'It was amazing.'

'R-Really?' Greg asked, still worried.

'It was... it was great, Greg,' Mycroft said. 'Honestly, it was just as good as you dominating me and fucking me into the mattress. I've never enjoyed sex as much as I do with you.'

Greg breathed a sigh of relief and buried his face in Mycroft's neck, Mycroft chuckling and wrapping his arms around the brown-eyed teen.

'Thank God,' Greg mumbled. 'I was worried too.'

'It was... good for you, right?' Mycroft asked.

Greg snorted. 'Like the noises I made weren't enough.' He leaned up to kiss Mycroft softly, smiling at him. 'Yeah, it was fuckin' fantastic. Best. Sex. _Ever_.'

'Even the normal sex?' Mycroft asked.

'Mm-hmm, best,' Greg nodded. 'I love being on the bottom, but fucking you is _definitely_ in my top five favourite things of all time.'

Mycroft snorted and pulled Greg back in for a hug and soft kiss. When they broke apart Mycroft whispered, 'How about some more fantastic sex?'

'Oh my God, you're the best boyfriend _ever_ ,' Greg groaned, pulling him in again and ignoring Mycroft's giggle.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg didn't realise how early it was until after their second round of sex... or third round, depending on how you looked at it. Mycroft counted a quick handjob, followed by a blowjob and some fingers in the bathroom, as sex. Greg didn't care either way; as long as he got to touch Mycroft, the younger boy could call it whatever the hell he wanted.

When they went downstairs to get some food- sex _really_ worked up an appetite- Greg pulled his mobile from the pyjama bottoms Mycroft had lent him and found that it was just after seven.

'Wow.'

'What?' Mycroft asked as they walked into the kitchen.

Greg had to pause a moment to really take in the kitchen. It was... fucking _big_. The floor beneath them was tiled white and black, the walls were painted a dull grey, and all the surfaces were shiny silver atop wood. The cupboards, both above and beneath the benches, were a dark varnished wood, and the fridge was a massive double-doored thing that could easily fit Greg and Mycroft.

'Gregory?' Mycroft said.

Greg tore his eyes away from the large windows that showed the beautiful grounds and turned back to Mycroft. 'Sorry, um... yeah?'

'Why did you say wow?' Mycroft asked.

'Aah... oh, it's just early,' Greg said. He waved his phone. 'Ten past seven.'

'Really?' Mycroft mused while he went to the fridge. 'I'd have thought it was later.'

'Yeah, we kinda tired ourselves out last night,' Greg said. He leaned against the table in the middle of the kitchen and watched Mycroft bend slightly as he looked in the fridge. 'And this morning,' he grinned.

Mycroft looked over his shoulder and Greg waggled his eyebrows. The red-head smirked and turned back to the fridge. 'We did, didn't we?' he hummed.

'Mm-hmm,' Greg nodded.

Mycroft chuckled. 'What do you want for breakfast?' he asked.

'Hum...' Greg walked around the counter and approached Mycroft. He stood beside his boyfriend and folded his arms across his naked chest; the cool air from the fridge was making his nipples hard and he shifted uncomfortably. _Damn Mycroft for wearing a shirt_ , Greg thought bitterly.

'Gregory?'

'Sorry,' Greg blinked.

Mycroft snickered. 'What's wrong with you?'

'Um... you shagged me so hard I've lost some brain cells,' he grinned.

Mycroft snorted and asked, again, 'What do you want for breakfast?'

'Er... anythin', I don't care,' Greg shrugged. 'What do _you_ want?'

'Well I can't cook,' Mycroft admitted. He turned back to the fridge and pursed his lips. 'So it's toast... or cereal.'

Greg smiled. 'I can cook if you want.'

'Really?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Whatever you want, I don't mind.'

'Are you sure?' Mycroft asked. When Greg nodded again, he said, 'Okay...'

'So what do you want?'

'Erm... pancakes?' Mycroft tried hesitantly.

Greg beamed and kissed his partner quickly. 'Pancakes coming up.'

Mycroft sat off to the side while Greg whipped together the batter and cooked. It became clear early on that the elder Holmes couldn't be trusted to help; he'd broken three eggs, dropped the milk, and almost over-turned the mixing-bowl. It was safer for Mycroft to sit this out.

Greg didn't have his iPod with him and had to make do playing songs from his smartphone. He bounced around and bopped his head, sang when he knew the words and hummed when he didn't. The entire time Mycroft watched him with bright eyes and a smile, wondering just how the hell he'd got lucky enough to end up with Greg Lestrade.

What Mycroft _could_ do was make coffee and set the table. Because there was only two of them, Mycroft put plates on the table in the middle of the kitchen and carried two stools across the room. He put jam, butter, and syrup out- remembering that Greg liked all three- and worked the expensive espresso maker until the rich scent of coffee hung thickly in the air.

Soon enough Greg had set large stacks of pancakes on a plate and carried them to the table. The two took a corner each so they could lean over their breakfast for sneaky kisses and talk without raising their voices too much.

Mycroft placed two pancakes on his plate while Greg did the same, and the genius spread a large amount of strawberry jam over his own. Greg dug his knife into the butter, then the jam, and topped it off by squeezing the syrup bottle until it spewed amber liquid all over his fluffy pancakes.

Licking his lips, Greg dove straight in while Mycroft sipped his coffee. 'You're a lunatic,' the red-head commented.

'Mmf, buff yoor datin' mee,' Greg mumbled around his large mouthful.

Mycroft smiled and set his mug down before leaning across the table. He used his thumb to swipe a stray dollop of syrup from the corner of Greg's mouth. Before he could lick his thumb clean Greg beat him to it; he leapt forward and sucked Mycroft's digit into his mouth, sucking back hard, tongue licking over the tip.

Mycroft felt a moan escape his lips and Greg smirked as he pulled back with a wet erotic sound. 'Mm, yummy,' he grinned.

Well... Mycroft couldn't let _that_ go, could he? Not after the hot, rough, absolutely _mind-blowing_ sex he and Greg had had the night before. And definitely not after the tender, comfortable, and still mind-blowing sex they'd had that morning.

And the blowjob.

And handjob.

And _fingers_.

Before Greg could even turn back to his pancakes, Mycroft was grabbing him by the back of the neck and tugging him over the table. Mycroft closed the rest of the distance and mashed his mouth against Greg's.

He crushed their lips together and Greg gasped in surprise, giving Mycroft the access he needed; his tongue thrust straight into the brunette's mouth and twisted with Greg's tongue, making the older boy moan and quickly melt.

Greg pressed one hand to the table top and the other grabbed Mycroft by the hair to keep him in place. The two quickly lost themselves to the kiss, neither registering the awkward position they were in; leaning over the table, the edges digging into their stomachs, the stools slowly sliding away from them along the tiles.

They didn't notice Mrs Hudson and Mr Andrew walking into the kitchen from the other door either. But when Mr Andrew burst into laughter and Mrs Hudson said, 'Oh, dear!' they quickly broke apart and turned, faces flushed, breathing ragged.

'M-Mrs Hudson,' Mycroft stuttered and stumbled back from Greg. He tripped over his stool and would have gone tumbling to the floor if Greg hadn't reached out and grabbed him by the shirt.

He yanked Mycroft back up and once again they pressed against each other.

'Er...' Greg tried while he slowly let Mycroft go.

Mycroft blushed furiously and Mr Andrew snickered. 'So... Gregory, what are you doing here this early?' the man asked. His eyes skimmed down the teenager's body. 'And half-naked, too?'

Greg joined Mycroft in turning red. Mrs Hudson turned and slapped Mr Andrew lightly on the stomach. 'No need to be mean, Jethro. They're both old enough to make their own decisions.'

Mr Andrew just smirked and walked over to the coffee machine, adjusting his robe as he did. Mrs Hudson was dressed similarly and waved Mycroft aside when the older Holmes tried to move.

'Stay where you are, dears, we're just here for breakfast,' she said.

Mycroft glanced at Greg, who gave him a "what-do-you-want-me-to-do?" look. Mycroft swallowed thickly but sat back down on his stool.

'I made pancakes,' Greg said. Mrs Hudson turned from where she was making tea and Mr Andrew raised both eyebrows over the rim of his coffee mug. Greg cleared his throat and gestured at the large stacks of pancakes sitting between him and Mycroft. 'There's enough for everyone.'

'Thank you, Gregory,' Mrs Hudson beamed. She took a plate from above the sink and said, 'Jethro, are you having pancakes?"

'I suppose,' the cook/butler/handyman said. He grabbed two more stools and dragged them over to table before going back for his coffee.

The four sat in silence- well Greg, Mycroft and Mr Andrew were silent, Mrs Hudson was prattling on about this and that, not in the least bit embarrassed- and ate their breakfast.

'These are delicious, Gregory,' Mrs Hudson praised.

'Thank you,' Greg replied.

'Where did you learn to cook like this?' the woman asked.

Greg blinked at her. 'Er... nowhere.'

Mr Andrew raised an eyebrow and pointed his fork at his almost clean plate. 'You're telling me you taught yourself how to make these?'

'Well... my mum taught me how to, you know, mix everythin',' Greg said. 'When I was growin' up it was cheaper to buy the separate ingredients instead of the pre-made batter, 'cause we could use the eggs and flour and all that for other stuff for other things. But I kinda started mixin' it in my own way and cookin' stuff the way I liked it when I was nine.'

'He's an excellent cook, apparently,' Mycroft added. He remembered how Maggie had praised her son's culinary talents when they'd had dinner.

Greg shrugged. 'M'not bad,' he mumbled.

'Have you considered becoming a chef?' Mr Andrew asked. 'You're very talented.'

'They're just pancakes,' Greg blushed. 'And I like cooking, but-'

'You don't love it?' Mr Andrew interrupted.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'I mean, I could probably make a lot of money, or at least enough to get by, but... I don't wanna do somethin' I hate. I saw what that did to my mum.'

Mycroft frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'She only became a nurse... six years ago,' Greg told the group. 'She wanted to be one when she was younger but got pregnant with me. And my old man wouldn't let her work- said a woman's place was in the house.' He wrinkled his nose at that, eyes dark, but continued. 'And bein' a single mum, she didn't have time to study and stuff. But when I got older and could take care of myself she started goin' to classes and eventually graduated. And now she works at the hospital.

'She's a lot happier then she was before,' Greg continued. 'She used to work odd jobs; Tesco, local cafes, warehouses, wherever she could get work, really. She could afford to put me through school and buy food and stuff but... she wasn't happy.' He blinked rapidly when he realised he'd been rambling and blushed. 'Erm... sorry.'

'That's fine, dear,' Mrs Hudson said and gave him a reassuring smile. 'It's nice that you want to do something you love.'

'What are you interested in?' Mr Andrew enquired.

Greg glanced at Mycroft, who smiled, before saying, 'Er... I kinda like sociology and... criminology.'

Mr Andrew raised an eyebrow. 'Really?' Mrs Hudson asked. 'So you want to be a police officer?'

'Yeah, maybe,' Greg nodded.

Mrs Hudson beamed and squeezed his shoulder. 'You'll make an excellent officer, my dear.'

'Detective Inspector Lestrade,' Mycroft grinned.

Greg rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at his lips. He was glad no one was laughing at him; after all, who'd ever think that Greg Lestrade, the town's number one delinquent, would ever wanna be a cop?

But Mycroft believed in him; so did Mrs Hudson and Mr Andrew _and_ his mum. It made Greg feel like he could really do it; like he could pass his exams and get into a good college or university.

_A college in Oxfordshire,_ he reminded himself and glanced at Mycroft. _I'm not givin' him up that easily._

'What are you boys up to today?' Mrs Hudson asked after she'd once again spent ten minutes praising Greg.

'Oh, we...' Mycroft trailed off when he realised he had no idea what they were doing today. Greg snickered and Mycroft scowled at him.

'Maybe having a lazy day?' Mr Andrew suggested. 'Just... staying in bed?'

Both boys blushed furiously and Mycroft wondered just when the hell the Holmes family butler had become so... _Sherlock_. It was like he'd spent a month locked in a room with the younger Holmes and instead of going insane, he'd come out a sarcastic bastard.

Mycroft frowned and looked the man over. In all the years Mycroft had known him, Mr Andrew had never been this... witty. He let his eyes drift up and down the man's body before the deductions popped up in his brain. He flicked his eyes to Mrs Hudson and saw the same thing.

Mycroft pushed back from the table so fast his stool tipped over and clattered to the floor.

'Mycroft!' Mrs Hudson exclaimed.

'What's wrong?' Greg asked.

'I... uh... B-BlackBerry,' Mycroft lied. 'In... room... need it.'

He rushed off before anyone could question him further and Greg frowned.

'I think you'd better go after him,' Mr Andrew said.

'Um... yeah,' Greg nodded and got up.

'Thank you for breakfast,' Mr Andrew said.

'No worries.' Greg gave both adults a smile before trailing after his boyfriend.

'What was that about?' Mrs Hudson said as soon as she and Mr Andrew- or Jethro, as she called him- were alone.

She began picking up their dirty plates and Jethro watched her with warm brown eyes. 'I think...' he said slowly while Martha was at the sink, 'that Mycroft just figured it out.'

Martha turned to face him. 'Oh?' Jethro nodded. 'I figured he knew as soon as he saw us; he always does.'

'He was distracted,' Jethro smiled.

Martha chuckled. 'Yes, by Gregory's lips.' Jethro laughed too and watched as Martha placed the plates in the sink. Though there was a big dishwasher just to her left, Martha hated using it; unless there were a lot of dishes, she preferred doing things the old fashioned way.

She jumped slightly when she felt warm arms wind around her waist and a solid chest press against her back.

'I think the boys will be busy today,' Jethro whispered in her ear. Martha shivered slightly. 'What's say we... go back to bed?'

Martha smiled and stepped away but threaded their fingers together. Jethro grinned broadly as he was tugged from the kitchen and back to the nanny's room.

 

{oOo}

 

'Mycroft, what's wrong?' Greg asked as soon as he entered his boyfriend's room. Mycroft was lying face down on the unmade bed and moaning. 'Myc?'

'No, no, no,' Mycroft mumbled and shook his head, as though trying to bury himself deeper into the pillows.

'Mycroft, seriously,' Greg said and walked across the room. He jumped onto the bed and drew one leg under himself, the other dangling over the edge. 'What's up?'

There was a heavy pause before Mycroft murmured, 'Old people sex.'

Greg frowned. 'Wha?'

'Old people sex,' Mycroft repeated. ' _Straight_ old people sex, in my house, right near me, just... _there_!'

'Er...'

'Gregory!' Mycroft shouted and was suddenly sitting and facing Greg. Greg blinked; how the hell did he move that quickly? 'Old people sex!'

'I... don't know what that means,' Greg said.

Mycroft scowled and waved his hands, as though _that_ would make him clearer. 'Old. People. _Sex_ ,' he spat.

'I got that-'

'In my house!'

'Yeah, you said-'

' _Right near my kitchen!_ '

'Mycroft!' Greg grabbed his partner by the face and Mycroft finally looked at him. 'Calm down, alright?' Mycroft scowled. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

Mycroft took a deep breath before speaking in a weirdly calm voice. 'I didn't notice at first because I was embarrassed about being caught snogging you in my kitchen by my nanny and cook.'

'Okay...'

'Mr Andrew and Mrs Hudson were both... _relaxed_.'

Greg frowned. 'Erm...'

' _Relaxed_ , Gregory,' Mycroft said. 'Like... like _we_ were relaxed.'

Greg blinked, staring at him, and Mycroft raised an eyebrow and gestured at the unmade bed they were sitting on.

It hit Greg like a tonne of bricks and he leapt back. ' _No_!'

'Yes.'

'N-No,' Greg shook his head. Mycroft nodded. 'That's... that's...' Greg scrunched up his nose. 'Ew, straight old people sex!'

'Exactly!' Mycroft practically shouted. He threw his hands up, as though Greg had just figured out some massively complex puzzle.

'Oh God, they... while we were... oh God,' Greg groaned, burying his face in his hands. 'That's... I don't wanna think about it.'

'Neither do I,' Mycroft murmured. 'I mean, good for them; they're both lovely people who deserve happiness. But-'

'I _so_ don't wanna think about it!' Greg interrupted.

'Exactly!' Mycroft shouted again. Suddenly Greg was kissing him and Mycroft pulled back. 'Gregory?'

'No, get it outta my head, make it stop!' Greg begged. He kissed Mycroft again and the genius let himself fall back onto the bed. 'Please,' Greg begged again.

Mycroft grabbed his face and kissed him harder while thrusting up and rubbing his quickly hardening cock against his boyfriend's. Greg moaned and licked his way down Mycroft's neck before nibbling on his ear.

They quickly forgot about Mrs Hudson and Mr Andrew.


	51. The Lazy Song

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** The Lazy Song by Bruno Mars

Greg moaned as he rolled off Mycroft. He felt his cock slide from his partner with a slick wet sound that seriously threatened to make him hard again. Mycroft groaned too and inhaled large gulps of air, his blue eyes blinking rapidly.

'Five times... in two days... is pushin'... it,' Greg got out between deep breaths.

'Six,' Mycroft corrected, 'when you count... the... bathroom...'

'Yeah,' Greg interrupted and flapped a hand half-heartedly. 'Whatever.'

'Have I... tired you out?' Mycroft asked.

Greg groaned. 'Yeah,' he admitted. 'Me cock's gonna... drop off... at this rate.'

Mycroft chuckled but didn't say anything; he was too focused on getting his breath back and basking in the very nice glow that came after sex with Gregory Lestrade.

'Seriously,' Greg continued to moan. 'Mycroft, we can't... stop it.'

'How's it _my_ fault?' Mycroft demanded.

'It just is.'

'You're the one who jumped me,' Mycroft pointed out.

'So?' Greg huffed. He slapped his hand against Mycroft's naked stomach. The genius grunted and glowered at him. 'S'your fault.'

'It is not.'

'It is.'

' _Isn't_.'

' _Is_.'

'Gregory, I'm going to slap you.'

'Nah-ah,' Greg grinned. He rolled over and faced his boyfriend, who was still glaring. 'You love my cock too much to slap me.'

'Gregory...'

'You just want me to fuck you,' Greg continued.

'I'm warning you,' Mycroft growled.

But Greg wasn't listening, instead just prattling away. 'And you want me to dominate you and fuck you and call you a filthy little- _oi_!'

Greg cut himself off with a shout when Mycroft straddled his hips. He blinked in surprise before a smirk tugged at his lips.

'Well hello there, gorgeous.'

Mycroft growled and grabbed Greg's arms. He pinned his wrists above his head and Greg moaned, arching up a little. Mycroft kept his arms in place with one hand while his other stroked slowly and softly down Greg's over-heated skin.

And then he bent down and licked a trail to Greg's nipple before sucking back.

'Oh God,' Greg cried out. A moan escaped his lips as Mycroft sucked his nipple, his tongue flicking over the small nub and making it harden. Greg felt fresh waves of pleasure wash through his body and his dick twitched between him and his boyfriend. 'M-Mycroft.'

'Mm?' Mycroft hummed against his chest.

'I don't think I have the energy to fuck you again,' Greg groaned.

'So don't,' Mycroft said. 'Just let me make you come.'

Greg whimpered at that and Mycroft licked across his chest, leaving a trail of saliva, before sucking back on his other nipple. Greg's moan turned into a harsh hiss when Mycroft's teeth sank into him.

Mycroft pulled back and blew lightly across Greg's nipple before his eyes flicked up. Greg's own were blown with lust, darker than usual, and he blinked when Mycroft looked at him.

'Wha?'

Mycroft just smiled and said, 'Keep your hands where they are.'

'Oh God, yes,' Greg nodded heartily in agreement.

He kept his wrists above his head as Mycroft shimmied down his body. His fingers ghosted Greg's side while he pressed feather-light kisses to Greg's abdomen. He stopped briefly to twirl his tongue around Greg's bellybutton before moving once again after a brief kiss.

Mycroft soon reached Greg's cock and hovered above it. Greg could feel Mycroft's warm breath washing over his dick and it twitched once again in interest. He moaned when Mycroft smiled- a truly sinful smirk- and kept his eyes open despite wanting to toss his head back and just shout.

'Keep your hands where they are, remember,' Mycroft reminded the older teen before ducking down.

Greg cursed as Mycroft's warm, wet tongue licked a trail from his balls to the very tip of his cock. He took a second to quickly taste the bead of pre-come that had formed in the slit of Greg's cock during his exploration of his boyfriend's body, before licking back down and nuzzling Greg's balls.

'Oh God, yes,' Greg moaned. He continued to watch, and feel, Mycroft lick up and down his cock; always cleaning away pre-come; always paying attention to his balls; always managing to make Greg harder and harder.

Only when his cock was rock-hard, the head a vicious shade of red and covered in pearly pre-ejaculate, did Mycroft lean down to suck the crown into his mouth. Greg arched off the bed with a moan but kept his hands against the pillows; it was so much hotter knowing he couldn't touch his partner.

Mycroft paused, the head of Greg's dick in his mouth, before moving further down when he was sure Greg himself wouldn't move.

'Oh fuck, yes,' Greg moaned when Mycroft had sucked him halfway down. 'Jesus fuck, you're beautiful.'

Mycroft hummed in response and Greg's hips lifted off the mattress against his will. Mycroft's hands slid between the bed and Greg's arse and grasped each of Greg's cheeks. He hauled him off the bed, forcing Greg's entire cock down his throat, and swallowed.

'OH FUCK!' Greg howled as he was overcome with sensation. 'Oh God, oh God, shit yes! Fuck, Mycroft, you're beautiful!'

Greg continued to ramble as the younger boy sucked him off. Mycroft's cheeks hollowed as he sucked back, taking all of Greg down his throat; his tongue flattened along the underside and twirled over the tip; he sucked and licked and hummed until Greg was tossing his head back and forth, feet planted on the mattress.

Greg's hips were constantly moving up and down, up and down, and Mycroft's fingers dug into Greg's cheeks, helping him move, forcing Greg's cock to thrust down his throat.

And the entire time Greg's hands remained pinned to the bed above his head.

'Fuck, so close,' Greg mewled. 'So close, so close, so-'

He peeled his eyes open and panted heavily when Mycroft's mouth left his cock. Mycroft scrambled up the bed and lay on his back beside Greg before hauling the brunette atop him.

Greg's arms flapped about and he yelped, but somehow he managed to straddle Mycroft's hips without falling on his arse. He blinked rapidly down at his boyfriend and nearly came right there; Mycroft's lips were swollen and red, covered in saliva, and he was breathing heavily from sucking Greg off.

'Move!' Mycroft ordered.

Greg was quick to comply. He shifted a bit, leaning on his knees, but quickly managed to line his cock up with Mycroft's.

They both moaned and shivered when their sensitive flesh rubbed together. Greg moved slowly and so did Mycroft, the two rolling their hips and breathing heavily against each other.

Greg _really_ didn't have the energy to fuck Mycroft again... but there were other ways they could have sex. The lust now outweighed his tired body and sensitive cock, so Greg wrapped his hand around both their shafts and pulled.

'Oh Christ,' Mycroft whimpered and tossed his head back. He was being pressed hard into the mattress by Greg's body atop his own and the pillows began to rock along with their movements, as did the bed. 'That's it, Gregory,' he cooed. 'Just like that.'

Greg moaned and closed his eyes as he continued to rock with the movements of his hand. It felt so fucking good, having Mycroft's prick against his own as their breathing came in shorter and shorter gasps. Sweat clung to their faces, their bodies, making them slide together and their hair stick to their foreheads.

Mycroft's hands ghosted up Greg's thighs before grabbing his hips and helping him move. Greg, so much closer to coming than Mycroft, cried out and closed his eyes before dropping forward. Just as he was about to come, Mycroft again rolled them and was suddenly on top.

Greg didn't understand why Mycroft kept changing their position but didn't really care. His hand moved faster and faster over their aching flesh; his legs wrapped around Mycroft's hips as the genius thrust against him; his breathing quickened until he wasn't taking in anymore oxygen.

And then Mycroft bit down on his shoulder and Greg came _hard_.

He cried out silently, his lips open but no sound managing to escape. His entire body spasmed as rope after rope of come shot across his chest and stomach. His hand continued to move, continued to pull, milking every last shudder of pleasure from his cock.

Mycroft went still when Greg's hand stopped and pulled back to look down at him.

Soft, warm lips brought Greg back from his haze of pleasure and he slowly peeled his eyes open. 'Mm?'

Mycroft smiled and kissed him softly before, yet again, moving down Greg's body. Greg's mouth dropped open when the red-head's tongue carved a trail in the thick come smeared across his stomach.

'Oh Jesus Christ,' Greg moaned. 'You tryin' to get me hard again?'

Mycroft chuckled and didn't answer until he'd cleaned every inch of Greg's stomach and Greg's dick had _actually_ twitched. 'Maybe,' he grinned coyly.

Greg sat up and grabbed Mycroft by the back of the neck. Mycroft's lips parted as Greg's crashed against them and both moaned as Greg's tongue tasted himself in Mycroft's mouth.

They snogged and licked and bit each other until Greg forced Mycroft onto his back, his legs apart. Mycroft ran a hand through Greg's hair as the brunette moved quickly down to his cock.

Unlike Mycroft, Greg wasn't going to take his time; he wanted to watch Mycroft break apart _now_.

He engulfed Mycroft's cock quickly and sucked him down, getting a kick out of the shout of surprise Mycroft gave. He hummed as he bobbed up and down Mycroft's dick, the taste of Mycroft and himself mingling on his tongue, being forced over his tastebuds by Mycroft's thick shaft.

Mycroft was cursing and moaning; his feet were planted firmly on the bed and he was thrusting up; his head was tilted back, lips pulled apart and teeth gritted. He tugged at Greg's hair with one hand while the other rubbed up and down his own body.

Greg grabbed Mycroft's cock with his left hand and pulled every time his mouth left Mycroft's heated skin. His other hand stroked up and down Mycroft's sweaty thigh, his hip, across his stomach until he met Mycroft's hand.

Mycroft threaded their fingers together and left their joined hands drop to the bed as he cried out. Greg squeezed, with both hands and his mouth, and felt Mycroft come down his throat.

Mycroft shook violently as he emptied himself into Greg's mouth. The older boy sucked and licked him clean until Mycroft was completely spent. He let Mycroft's prick fall from his lips with a pop and grinned.

'Fuck,' Mycroft moaned.

Greg chuckled and watched as Mycroft looked up at him. 'What?'

'Come here.'

Greg moved up the bed and Mycroft did too. He sat up and locked mouths with Greg, their swollen lips pressed together and moving, their tongues swapping all kinds of things that tasted like sex and each other.

When they broke apart, Mycroft fell onto his back, his head on the pillows, and pulled Greg towards him with one arm. Greg shuffled his body until he was curled around his boyfriend. His head rested on Mycroft's chest and his legs tangled with the genius'. Greg draped the arm that wasn't stuck between their bodies across Mycroft's waist and felt his partner's arm slide across his shoulders.

The two were silent as they got their breathing under control and just tried to calm down. Both were absolutely shagged-out; Greg didn't think he'd be having sex again anytime soon... well, not until Mycroft jumped him again.

Greg rubbed his cheek against Mycroft's sweaty chest and hummed in happiness; it felt amazing to be curled around a warm body, around _Mycroft's_ warm body. The sex was great but Greg loved this part too; just being with Mycroft, in his arms, was brilliant.

Mycroft's fingers trailed up and down Greg's arm, offering a soothing touch to Greg's overheated skin. Slowly they moved up, ghosting Greg's neck, before pushing through the brunette's hair. Greg practically purred as Mycroft scratched at his scalp and tugged his hair gently; he was basically petting his boyfriend, but Greg seemed to like it.

After a few minutes their breathing evened out, their bodies calmed down, and they just laid together enjoying the other's company; Greg hugging Mycroft, Mycroft patting him.

'So what are we doing today?' Greg broke the silence. His breath washed over Mycroft's chest and made the red-head look down at him. He didn't stop playing with Greg's hair when he spoke, and Greg was grateful; Mycroft's fingers felt nice and relaxing twisting at his spiky locks.

'I don't know,' Mycroft said. 'I didn't have any plans.'

'Other than seducing me,' Greg smiled.

Mycroft chuckled. 'Other than that,' he nodded.

'Hmm... we should go to lunch somewhere,' Greg said.

'Should we?' Mycroft asked.

The brunette nodded and they slipped back into silence.

'Oh, no,' Mycroft groaned.

'What?' Greg asked and sat up. He stared at Mycroft, who was now sighing. 'What is it?'

'I promised to take Sherlock to the hospital today.'

Greg frowned. 'What? Why?'

'In repayment for covering for me.'

Greg continued to frown until he remembered Mycroft saying Sherlock liked to run around the morgue. 'Oh, right.'

Mycroft sighed. 'I'll have to spend the day trying to sneak into the hospital and keep Sherlock out of trouble.'

Greg nodded slowly and said, ' _Or_...' Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'I could ask my mum to let Sherlock take a look around.'

'Really?' Mycroft asked.

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'As long as Sherlock doesn't touch anything, and we have an escort, we can go wherever we want. I've hung around the hospital heaps of times when either me or Mum have been outta transport, or when I was younger and needed to be watched.'

'Gregory-'

'It'll be fine, I promise,' Greg said. 'I can call my mum and ask.'

Mycroft smiled and sat up to give Greg a kiss. 'You're brilliant.'

Greg chuckled. 'I know.'

'We can have lunch at the hospital,' Mycroft said, 'and then go back to yours to get changed for the party...'

'Or...' Greg said again as he climbed out of bed to go search for his phone.

'Or have sex again,' Mycroft grinned.

'Exactly,' Greg smirked back.

 

{oOo}

 

After another two or so hours just kissing, touching, and giggling together, Greg and Mycroft decided it was time to get out of bed. Well, Mycroft decided; he stated they both reeked of sex and had to shower before going anywhere. Normally Greg would have skipped the shower but the chance to see Mycroft dripping wet and covered in soap was too good to pass up.

So he hopped out of bed and ran naked into the ensuite bathroom, hearing Mycroft chuckle as he followed.

'Excited much?' Mycroft asked as he turned the taps on.

'Hey, you're gonna be naked,' Greg said.

'I'm naked now.'

'Yeah, but... covered in water, too,' Greg said as his eyes swept down Mycroft's body.

Mycroft nudged Greg towards the shower and said, 'Stop leering.'

'Never,' Greg grinned.

The shower was in the very corner of the bathroom and had two glass walls, one a large door that swung open. The tiles beneath their feet, and around the shower walls, were a dark maroon with white trimming. It matched the maroon drapes that hung across the large window that spanned the entire left wall, as well as the maroon patterns on the door.

The shower was big enough to fit at least six people, with a nozzle that detached from the wall, a large shelf that held shampoo, conditioner, face washes, body wash, and a number of shaving and skin products.

Greg lost a moment fantasising about Mycroft fucking him against the wall and yelped when he was sprayed with water. He leapt back and shook his head before looking up to see Mycroft standing at the other end of the shower, one hand gripping the showerhead.

'Bastard,' Greg gasped and rubbed his eyes.

Mycroft snickered and stepped out of the shower, Greg watching him with a small smile. When Mycroft got back in, sliding the door shut behind him, he had a green body sponge in his hands. He tossed it to Greg and said, 'Is body wash okay with you?'

Greg looked at the shelf and picked up the black bottle. 'Sea salt?' he questioned after scanning the label.

'I like the smell,' Mycroft shrugged.

'Hmm,' Greg hummed. 'Mum just buys me whatever's on special.'

'Does she?'

Greg nodded and popped the cap. 'I bet this is expensive.'

'I like what I like,' Mycroft shrugged and grabbed the red body sponge hanging from a small hook beside the shelf of products.

Mycroft ducked under the water and closed his eyes. Greg watched, mouth suddenly feeling dry, as Mycroft's hair was plastered to his head by the heavy flow of water. It instantly turned a dark shade of brown, the red looking like it bled right out.

_God_ , Greg moaned silently. Water was dripping down Mycroft's tall, lean body, making him shine under the soft bathroom lighting. He was rolling his neck and humming, letting the hot water work out the kinks and aches that had built up after spending half the day having sex.

Greg leaned heavily against the wall, not caring that the tiles were ice cold, as his eyes rolled up and down Mycroft's body over and over again.

Mycroft rubbed a hand over his face and stepped out of the spray. He spat water from his mouth and peeled his eyes open, immediately finding Greg staring at him. He raised a dark brown eyebrow before glancing down.

'Oh, no; not again.'

Greg blinked at the sound of Mycroft's voice and tore his eyes away from his boyfriend's body, instead focusing on his face. 'Huh?'

'No, no more sex until tonight, we agreed,' Mycroft said sternly.

Greg frowned... until he realised his hand was rubbing his quickly hardening cock. 'No, I don't-'

'No, we agreed,' Mycroft whined. 'Please, my arse hurts.'

'No, serious, I don't want sex,' Greg insisted. Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'I mean, I _do_ want sex... but not now.'

'Sure.'

'Serious,' Greg insisted.

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'Greg, look...' Greg frowned at the use of his shortened name. Mycroft only used it during sex and when he was relaxed. 'Just because we've had sex now... well, penetrative sex, doesn't mean... I don't want...'

'Hey, come here,' Greg said and held a hand out.

Mycroft didn't hesitate; he placed his sponge on the bench, as did Greg, and closed the distance between them. Greg hooked his arms loosely around Mycroft's waist and Mycroft did the same.

'Just say what you want to say,' Greg said. 'You can say whatever you want to me, I won't judge.'

Mycroft was silent, staring at Greg's chest, before he said, 'I don't want our relationship to just be about sex.'

Greg frowned. 'What?'

'Now that we've had... penetrative sex,' Mycroft said, 'I don't want our relationship to just be about that.'

'Oh...' Realisation finally dawned on Greg. ' _Oh_... right.' Greg ran a hand through his hair. 'No, I don't want that either,' he said. 'I love having sex with you, don't get me wrong, but everything we've been doing together is fantastic.

'The other types of sex, and the talking and just hanging out, it's all amazing, Mycroft,' Greg continued. 'I had "just sex" before we started... _this_ -' he gestured between them, '- and it was great; it was fun. But I don't want that anymore because what we have is a hundred times better.'

He squeezed Mycroft's hips and the genius looked up at him.

'I just want _you_ , Mycroft,' Greg said. 'Your brain and your body and just... you, alright? I want _you_. And how I feel about you, what we have, isn't gonna change just 'cause I stuck my cock in your arse.'

Mycroft couldn't help but chuckle at Greg's gruff way of saying things. He smiled and let Greg go, only to grab one of his hands and bring it up to his lips. 'Promise?' Greg nodded and Mycroft kissed his knuckles. 'Good.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Believe me, I don't wanna just spend all our time in bed together. It's brilliant, but we have more than that.'

'So why were you touching yourself?' Mycroft asked.

'Come on, Mycroft,' Greg chuckled. 'We're in the shower together, _naked_. You were standing there all gorgeous and wet and... well, my body reacted. That doesn't mean I was gonna jump you.'

'Right,' Mycroft nodded. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't be,' Greg said and kissed his lips gently. 'I'll only jump you when you want me to.'

Mycroft smiled and leaned down slightly to capture Greg's lips again. The two kissed softly and gently, pressed against each other as water splashed over Mycroft's back. When Greg felt something hard poke against his stomach he drew back and looked down.

Mycroft blushed and said, 'I'm sorry.'

'It's fine,' Greg chuckled. 'We're naked, remember?' Mycroft nodded. 'Now let's get clean, get dressed, and I'll call my mum and ask about Sherlock comin' to the hopsital.'

'Okay,' Mycroft said and drew back. He picked up his sponge again and squirted a descent amount of body gel on.

Greg walked over the pouring water and ducked beneath it, moaning when the hot water washed over him. He hadn't realised how sore and tired he was until now. When he opened his eyes he noticed Mycroft watching him, sponge pressed against his chest.

'What?' Greg said.

'Er...'

Greg grinned and his eyes flicked down to Mycroft's erection.

'Shut up,' Mycroft huffed and turned away, scrubbing at his body viciously.

Greg groaned when he caught sight of Mycroft's firm, pale arse, as well as his freckled back and shoulders.

'Gregory,' Mycroft warned without turning around.

'We shouldn't shower together,' Greg said and grabbed the bottle of body gel.

Mycroft chuckled.

Greg let his eyes trail up and down Mycroft's body again. Suddenly he _really_ didn't care if they were late; he didn't care if his mum couldn't answer his call, or if Sherlock got pissy because Mycroft wasn't there. He needed Mycroft right then and there.

He dropped the bottle of body gel and Mycroft turned at the sound of it hitting the tiles. 'Gregory?'

Greg pushed him against the wall and Mycroft gasped as his back came into contact with cold tiles. Greg took the opportunity to feed from Mycroft's mouth, his lips crushing against the younger boy's, his tongue snaking into Mycroft's mouth and tangling with his own.

Mycroft's hands pressed against Greg's chest, half trying to push away, but mostly trying to claw and get Greg closer. When they broke apart Greg looked into Mycroft's eyes, making sure the other teenager wanted this.

'N-No, we need to go...' Mycroft tried.

'Don't care,' Greg rasped. He leaned up and captured Mycroft's lips in a brutal, passionate kiss that made Mycroft moan and slide against the tiles.

Their tongues fought for dominance, the fight going from Greg's mouth to Mycroft's and back again. Neither knew who they wanted to lead, and it turned into a free-for-all; Greg sucking Mycroft's tongue into his mouth like a lolly, Mycroft biting Greg's bottom lip and dragging it between his teeth, Greg exploring every inch of the red-head's mouth and Mycroft trying to force his tongue down Greg's throat.

Greg knew they didn't have lube in here and he was too horny to go through the bottles of crap Mycroft had and look for something that was safe to use internally. So instead he forced Mycroft against the tiled wall and clasped their raging erections in one hand.

Mycroft mewled and broke their kiss for air. His chest heaved and his breath blew across Greg's wet skin as he tried to inhale the oxygen his body craved. Greg pumped his fist quickly and efficiently, again too horny to drag this out.

Mycroft moaned, head tipped back, and scratched at Greg's arms, trying to get a hold. Greg felt Mycroft's nails dig into the soft flesh of his biceps but the pain just added fuel to the fire; lust was curling through his gut and exploding outwards with each passing second. Mycroft's cock was rock-hard and hot against his own, and pre-come mixed with water to make Greg's hand move smoothly up and down, up and down, up and-

'Oh fuck,' Greg grunted and felt his knees weaken. He leaned heavily against Mycroft and felt his partner's arms wrap tightly around his back.

'Come on, Greg,' Mycroft whispered in his ear, voice husky and raw. 'I want you to come.'

'God,' Greg moaned. His hand sped up and his buried his face in Mycroft's neck. Mycroft groaned in pleasure when Greg started kissing and licking the part where his neck met his shoulder.

Greg tasted hot water, faint traces of sweat, and Mycroft. He licked and suckled at the red-head's pale skin, his tongue tracing freckles as he continued to jerk them both off.

'Fuck, Gregory,' Mycroft moaned and his head thumped against the tiles loudly. 'F-Faster.'

Greg's hand moved that much quicker and his free hand snaked between them. Mycroft gasped and his entire body tensed when Greg's hand fondled his balls.

Mycroft came with a cry that echoed around the bathroom, bouncing off the glass walls, the tiles, and drilling into Greg's head. That, and the ropes of come that splattered against his hand and stomach, were enough to send Greg over the edge.

He bit down hard on Mycroft's shoulder and sucked back as he came. His entire body shook violently and his hand moved slower, milking his and Mycroft's orgasms. Mycroft shuddered again as Greg's teeth dug into his skin and he knew he'd bruise. But the thought of walking around with Greg's teeth marks in his skin was enough to make Mycroft moan again.

The two stood together, Greg leaning heavily against Mycroft and the genius slouched against the wall, as they both came down. Their bodies thrummed nicely despite the ache in Mycroft's shoulder and the shaking of their knees.

When Greg finally pulled back he pressed a gentle kiss to Mycroft's shoulder. 'M'sorry.'

'Never... apologise for that,' Mycroft said.

Greg looked up with a shy smile and Mycroft closed the distance between to press a soft, gentle kiss to Greg's lips.

'Never apologise for that,' Mycroft repeated firmly.

Greg nodded. He finally let them go and Mycroft pushed off the wall. He groaned and rolled his neck before pulling Greg under the spray of hot water.

'That was nice,' Greg said as Mycroft's warm, pale hands washed his stomach.

'It was,' Mycroft agreed with a nod.

'So... definitely shower together in the future?' Greg asked.

Mycroft slapped him and Greg chuckled.

 

{oOo}

 

' _It's fine, dear_.'

'Are you sure?' Greg asked yet again. He stuck his mobile between his face and shoulder as he bent to do up his shoes. 'Sherlock should be fine as long as Mycroft's with him.'

' _Greg, really, it's fine_ ,' Maggie promised. ' _Just-_ '

'Don't touch anything; I got it,' Greg nodded.

' _Good,_ ' Maggie said and Greg heard voices in the background. ' _My lunchbreak's at one, come by then. We'll have lunch and I'll find someone to show Sherlock around._ '

'Alright.'

' _I gotta go, love you_.'

'Love you too,' Greg said before Maggie hung up. Greg dumped his phone on the bed and finished doing up his shoes. 'Mum said it's fine.'

'Are you sure?'

Greg looked up at Mycroft, who was tugging a maroon button-up shirt on. He smiled as he watched pale, freckled skin disappear beneath cotton. 'Yeah,' he nodded. 'Her lunchbreak's at one, we'll head around just before then and have somethin' to eat, then a nurse'll probably show us around.'

'Thank you, Gregory,' Mycroft sighed. 'Usually the nurses at the front desk throw us out when they catch sight of Sherlock.'

Greg smiled as he stood and stretched. He was wearing the spare clothes he'd brought; a dark blue Muse shirt and black skinny jeans. He'd tugged on the leather jacket he always wore when he rode his bike, and his Chucks. Now he was just waiting on Mycroft.

Mycroft had disappeared into his wardrobe and when he came back he had a purple and black checked belt on, as well as three chains dangling from his right leg. There was a thick black and purple striped bracelet on his left wrist, a black leather strap and a silver chain on his right. He smiled at Greg before disappearing into the ensuite bathroom.

Greg, as a guy who didn't take a lot of time on his appearance unless he was going to a party, flopped back onto the bed and waited. He felt tired, despite the lazy day he'd had. Sex had never taken so much energy out of him.

Then again, he'd never slept with the same person multiple times in the space of thirty hours.

Greg grinned goofily at the memories; taking Mycroft, blowing Mycroft, Mycroft _blowing_ him, the kisses and touches and-

'Gregory!'

'What?' Greg shouted and sat up quickly.

'You're touching yourself again,' Mycroft said as he walked across the room. He grabbed the thick black jacket Greg had lent him the day before as Greg looked down at his crotch.

'Damn it,' Greg groaned and flopped back onto the bed. 'You'll be the death of me.'

'A good death, though,' Mycroft said. He chuckled when Greg pouted at him.

 

{oOo}

 

Mrs Hudson and Mr Andrew were watching TV in the sitting room. They didn't have to stand to attention when Mr and Mrs Holmes weren't around, so they took the time to relax.

Mrs Hudson smiled at them and Greg smiled back until he remembered the whole reason he and Mycroft had shagged each other through the mattress earlier; _OLD PEOPLE SEX!_ his mind supplied.

Greg promptly blushed and looked down, refusing to meet Mrs Hudson's eyes.

Mycroft steeled himself and said, 'Gregory and I are going out. I'll be staying at his tonight.'

'Okay, dear,' Mrs Hudson smiled. 'Just call to let me know if you're coming home tomorrow night, okay?'

Mycroft nodded, smiled briefly at Mr Andrew, and dragged Greg from the room. When the front door banged shut, Jethro laughed.

'Don't be mean,' Martha said and slapped his stomach.

'He won't be able to look at us properly for weeks,' Jethro giggled.

'You're evil.'

'Guilty,' Jethro said and kissed her cheek. Martha smiled.


	52. Let's All Go To The Hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver

'I really need to buy a bike,' Mycroft said when they pulled up at Greg's.

Greg chuckled as he pulled his helmet off. 'You've got a bike; a fucking Harley.'

Mycroft turned to smile at him and said, 'True, but I can't ride it yet.'

'So buy one like mine,' Greg shrugged. 'Or better yet, just let me give you a lift everywhere.' He waggled his eyebrows and Mycroft laughed. 'Open the garage for us?' Greg said after tugging his keys from his pocket.

Mycroft caught them and opened the one-door garage. Greg pushed his bike in and locked up before leading Mycroft into the house. Maggie was already at work and it was nearing one, so Greg and Mycroft just dropped off their stuff before heading out again.

Mycroft had left his Jag parked on the street and the two climbed in. When Mycroft pulled onto the street he said, 'Not nearly as much fun as a bike.'

Greg giggled and started playing with the CD player.

 

{oOo}

 

Mycroft knocked on the door and Greg blinked rapidly when Harry Watson answered. She looked between the two before her eyes settled on Greg and she grinned. 'Well hello there, George.'

'Greg,' the brunette corrected.

'Oh, right,' Harry grinned. 'Sorry about that, _Greg_.'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at her clearly flirty tone and cleared his throat. Harry looked at him and smiled.

'Well, well, well, Mycroft Holmes.' She leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms. 'Haven't you grown up well.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'Lovely to see you again, Harriet.'

'Please don't call me that,' Harry groaned. Her eyes went from Mycroft's face, down his body, and back up again. 'Seriously, mate, you've grown five inches in the last year... and your _body_ -'

'I thought you were gay,' Mycroft interrupted.

'I don't mind a bloke every now and then,' Harry said.

'Yes, well, I _am_ gay,' Mycroft said, 'not ninety percent, not even ninty-nine percent; I'm completely, one-hundred percent, flaming queen. I also happen to be in a committed relationship.' He looked pointedly at Greg, who gave Harry a toothy grin. 'So sorry, but I'm not interested.'

Harry chuckled. 'Damn, have you always been this... _this_?'

'Yes,' Mycroft said, 'now, as lovely as this is, I'm here for my brother, and most likely John.'

Harry beamed at him before throwing a wink Greg's way and disappearing into the house. 'Little brother, the other Freak's here!' Harry shouted.

'Harry, don't call them that!' came John Watson's voice. Mycroft and Greg heard more bickering before Sherlock and John appeared.

Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks, light blue eyes skimming over his brother before quickly flicking to Greg. Mycroft sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while both Greg and John looked at the brothers in confusion.

'Oh God,' Sherlock groaned.

'It's none of your business,' Mycroft stated.

'It is if you're going to be annoyingly happy,' Sherlock huffed. He pushed between the couple and stomped to Mycroft's dark green Jag.

'What's going on?' John asked.

'Yeah...' Greg mumbled.

Mycroft grabbed John's shoulder and propelled him towards the car. 'You're coming, yes?'

'Yeah,' John nodded.

'So go,' Mycroft said and pushed him away. John frowned but walked willingly to the car.

'What's goin' on?' Greg asked.

'Sherlock knows we spent last night, and half of today, having sex,' Mycroft stated.

Greg stared at him. 'S'cuse me?'

'He deduced, correctly, that we've spent most of our time having sex,' Mycroft said.

'Oh God,' Greg groaned.

'Yes.'

'He knows.'

'Yes.'

'Does he know... er, like, who... b-bottomed?' Greg asked hesitantly.

Mycroft pursed his lips before nodding.

'Oh _God_.'

'It's not like he has a choice,' Mycroft said. 'You can't unsee something.'

'Christ,' Greg scowled and pulled out his cigarettes. He quickly lit one, not caring about Mycroft's "no smoking in the Jag" rule. 'Fucking Holmeses,' he scowled and walked towards the car.

'I'm inclined to agree with you this time,' Mycroft murmured and followed his boyfriend.

 

{oOo}

 

By the time Greg finished his fag and he and Mycroft climbed into the Jag, Sherlock had filled John in. John was flushed a brilliant shade of pink and couldn't look either Mycroft or Greg in the face. Though he knew they were together- and teenage boys, therefore most likely shagging- getting proof pointed out by your best friend was _very_ different.

And poor John didn't know what to say.

When they pulled up in the carpark of the hospital Greg finally snapped. He ripped his seatbelt free, twisted in his seat, and shouted.

'Yes, me and Mycroft shagged, alright?' John flushed a darker shade of red and Sherlock grimaced. 'Yeah, we had sex,' Greg continued, 'but guess what? We're both legally old enough to have sex, we're old enough to make our own decisions, and we're in a _relationship_.

'So Sherlock, mind your own fucking business-' Greg snapped and Sherlock huffed in annoyance, '- and John, grow the fuck up; you're thirteen, get used to the people around you having sex.'

John stared pointedly at his lap and Sherlock scowled at Greg as the brunette ripped the door open. He slammed it shut and lit another cigarette while Mycroft climbed out of the car at a normal pace.

'Gregory, love, calm down.'

'I am calm,' Greg muttered.

Mycroft chuckled. 'Yes, of course you are.' He smiled when Greg glared at him. 'Gregory, they're young, and Sherlock's a nosy twat; of course he's going to point out that we had sex. And he's going to tell John because he tells John _everything_. Just relax and stop shouting.'

When Greg finished his cigarette his anger had dimmed and he sighed. John and Sherlock were hanging out a few feet away and both looked up when Greg and Mycroft approached them.

'M'sorry,' Greg muttered. 'I shouldn't have yelled.'

'No, you shouldn't-' Sherlock began but John cut in.

'It's fine,' the short boy said and his best mate scowled at him. 'Your private life is none of our business.'

'Yeah, but I shouldn've yelled,' Greg said. 'Sorry.'

John just shrugged and Sherlock stared at him.

'What?' Greg asked.

'Lestrade, I want to talk to you,' Sherlock said.

Greg looked at Mycroft, who shrugged, and said, 'Um... yeah, a'right.' He followed Sherlock until they were out of earshot of Mycroft and John. 'So-'

'Thank you.'

Greg blinked. 'For what?'

'For standing up for my brother,' Sherlock said. He crossed his arms and scowled at the floor. 'What your... _friends_ , said to him... what they did,' the genius said, 'I want to thank you for standing up for him so... thank you.'

'Oh, right,' Greg nodded. 'Er... no worries.' Sherlock looked up at him. 'Seriously, Sherlock, I had to do it. Mycroft's my boyfriend which means nobody treats him like that. I take care of the people I love.'

Sherlock's eyebrows jumped in surprise and even Greg looked dumbfounded.

'Uh... what I mean is-'

'You love my brother?' Sherlock interrupted.

'No!' Greg practically shouted. He glanced across at Mycroft and John, who were both watching them, and Sherlock scowled.

'You _don't_ love my brother?' the young genius demanded.

'No! I mean yes! I mean... I... damn it!' Sherlock snickered. 'It ain't funny,' Greg huffed.

'Yes it is,' Sherlock grinned.

Greg scowled and wet his lips. 'What I _meant_ to say is... well, I care about Mycroft. So... I'll take care of him.'

Sherlock looked him over carefully before nodding. 'Good.'

'Um...' Greg hesitated before plunging ahead, 'can we _not_ mention that to Mycroft?'

Sherlock just smirked and walked away.

'Sherlock?' Greg questioned. Sherlock continued to ignore him. 'Sherlock, come on, mate!' Greg whined and jogged after him. 'I'll buy you cigarettes!'

 

{oOo}

 

'What did Sherlock want?' Mycroft asked as they walked.

'Absolutely nothing,' Greg said.

Mycroft inclined an eyebrow but kept his eyes on Sherlock and John, who were walking ahead of them. 'Clearly it was _something_. Sherlock doesn't call people over for a private conversation and say nothing.'

'Well he said nothin',' Greg said.

'Hmm... I think you're lying.'

'You'll never prove it,' Greg stated and Mycroft chuckled.

'Whatever you say, dear.'

'You won't,' Greg insisted.

Mycroft hummed. 'Mm-hmm.'

'Serious.'

'Oh, I believe you,' Mycroft grinned.

'No you don't,' Greg said with a groan. 'Bloody Holmeses.'

Mycroft chuckled.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg led the group through the hospital and into the elevator that would take them to the third floor where his mother usually worked. They rode up in silence- well, Sherlock and John where whispering together- and when they stepped out onto the floor Greg immediately turned right-

\- only to freeze.

His mum was standing at the nurses' station with a blue folder open. A doctor was leaning against the table, completely at ease, and chatting to Maggie. The two were laughing together and Maggie reached out to touch the doctor's arm, practically stroking it through the thick white doctor's coat.

'Gregory?' Mycroft questioned.

Greg took a deep breath and ignored the worried look Mycroft was wearing as he once again led the way forward.

Maggie spotted him when the group was a foot away and immediately stood back from the doctor.

'Greg, hello, love,' Maggie beamed, though her eyes flicked from him to the mystery doctor beside her.

'Hey...' Greg said slowly.

Both Mycroft and Sherlock swept their eyes over the doctor, Maggie, and then looked at Greg. John just stood there smiling.

'I don't believe we've met,' Maggie said when she spotted John.

'John Watson,' John said and held out his hand. 'I'm a friend of Sherlock's.' Maggie smiled as she shook his hand. 'It's a pleasure to meet you.'

'The pleasure's all mine, young man,' Maggie smiled.

Greg was still staring at the mystery dude.

'Phil,' Maggie said and gestured at Greg, 'this is my son, Gregory,' her hand then waved in Mycroft's direction, 'his boyfriend, Mycroft,' Mycroft smiled politely, 'and Mycroft's brother, Sherlock.'

Sherlock, of course, scowled.

'This is Doctor Phillip Rider,' Maggie told the group and smiled at the doctor.

Greg's eyes narrowed as the man smiled his way. He was bloody tall- at least 6"3- with short black hair that stuck up in every direction and emerald green eyes behind square-framed glasses. He flashed Greg and the other teenagers a bright white smile, making the lines around his eyes deepen. He was kinda handsome, Greg noted, with broad shoulders, but in no way big. He was more... wiry, Greg supposed. And he looked a hell of a lot like Harry Potter, only taller.

And then it hit Greg.

His name was _Doctor Phil_.

That almost made Greg laugh... you know, if the guy hadn't been acting all cosy with his _mother_ when Greg had arrived.

'He started working here about seven or eight months ago,' Maggie continued when Greg remained silent.

'Your mother's been showing me the ropes,' Doctor Phil said with a slight Irish accent tinged with something else... Australian?

'Right...' Greg said.

Mycroft nudged his partner in the side, no doubt telling Greg that he was being rude, but Greg didn't care.

'Mum, can we... have a chat?' Greg asked and walked away before she could answer.

Maggie sighed and shot the group an apologetic smile before trailing after her son. Greg stopped a few feet and crossed his arms over his chest; classic defensive pose, but Greg didn't care.

'So, who's Doctor Phil?' Greg demanded.

'Gregory,' Maggie sighed.

'Serious, who is he?'

Maggie rubbed her eyes. 'Like I told you; he's a new doctor, he moved here from New Zealand a few months ago.'

Greg frowned. 'He sounds Irish.'

'He grew up Ireland,' Maggie explained, 'then moved to England when he was nine. Moved back to Ireland when he was thirteen, and then his family finally settled in New Zealand when he was seventeen.'

Greg's frown deepened. 'How come you know all that?'

'Gregory,' Maggie tried again.

'No, tell me why the hell you know all that!' Greg snapped. 'And why he's actin' all _cosy_ with you!'

'Greg, don't take that tone with me,' Maggie scowled, bring out her mum voice. Greg huffed and tightened his arms. 'I can date who I want.'

'Oh, so you're dating?' Greg snarled.

'Greg-'

'A little warnin' woulda been nice.'

'I didn't realise I had to tell you,' Maggie said, fast losing her patience.

'You don't, I-'

'Then what's with the attitude?' Greg pursed his lips and Maggie said, 'Well?'

'What if he's not good enough for you?' Greg blurted.

Maggie blinked. 'Excuse me?'

Greg sighed and all traces of hostility vanished. He lowered his gaze and scuffed his shoe against the grey floor. 'What... well, what if he's not good enough for you?' he asked. 'I'm s'pposed ta... ya know, look out for ya... what if he hurts you?'

A smile tugged at Maggie's lips when she realised exactly why Greg was upset. 'Greg, I can take care of myself.'

'I know,' Greg huffed. 'But... I'm your son, you know? I'm... s'pposed to look out for you,' he repeated.

'I know, love,' Maggie said, 'but I can take care of myself. I appreciate your concern, but I'm careful about the men I date, you know that.'

Greg nodded; his mum was always really careful about the men she met, especially after his dad.

'I don't bring strange men home, just like you don't,' Maggie said. 'Well, until Mycroft,' she added.

'That's different.'

'Because you love Mycroft,' Maggie said.

''Cause I _care about_ Mycroft,' Greg corrected.

Maggie chuckled but nodded. 'Exactly. I never bring a guy home after a few dates, because I don't want to disrupt your life. It's always been you and me, kiddo, because you're the most important man in my life.'

Greg squirmed under his mum's loving gaze. 'Well... you _can_ bring guys home,' he mumbled. 'You know, if you really fancy them.'

'I know that,' Maggie nodded. 'But I haven't brought Phil home- or told you about him- because we're not at that stage yet.'

Greg looked up at her. 'No?'

Maggie shook her head and said, 'No, we've only been on a few dates the past three months. I was going to introduce you two if it became serious, but he was on call today and I didn't know. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have sprung him on you like that.'

'You didn't,' Greg said, 'you were just chattin'.'

'You're not an idiot, Greg,' Maggie chuckled. 'You put it together.'

'Yeah, well...' Greg sighed and finally lowered his arms. 'I don't care if you date,' he said, 'I just... you know, want you to be safe.'

'I know,' Maggie smiled and pulled Greg in for a hug. 'And I appreciate it.'

Greg smiled as he hugged his mum back and Maggie kissed the top of his head before letting him go. 'So he knows about me?' Greg asked.

'Of course he does,' Maggie said. 'I never date anyone without first bringing you up.'

'Cool,' Greg nodded. 'So, um... better get back before Sherlock runs off.'

Maggie smiled and said, 'You don't mind Phil taking you on a tour?'

'Nah, s'fine,' Greg said. 'Besides, gives me the opportunity to check 'im out.'

'Go easy, dear,' Maggie smiled and wrapped an arm around Greg's shoulders. She steered her son back to the group.

Sherlock was staring at Phil, who looked uncomfortable, while Mycroft kept an eye on his brother and John asked questions about being a doctor.

'Yeah, but I reckon it'd be cool, saving people,' the short boy was saying.

'You want to be a doctor, John?' Maggie asked as they approached.

John blushed lightly but gave her an enthusiastic nod. 'I want to help people,' he said.

'That's nice,' Maggie smiled. 'I'm sure you'll make a fine doctor.'

John beamed and Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'I wanna see the morgue!' he demanded.

'Sherlock, don't be rude,' Mycroft chastised. His little brother poked his tongue out and the elder Holmes rolled his eyes. 'I apologise for my brother's antics.'

'That's fine, Mycroft,' Maggie said. She let Greg go and clapped her hands together. 'So, let's have lunch, and then Doctor Rider will take you on a tour.'

'I don't _need_ a babysitter,' Sherlock huffed.

'Yes you do,' John said.

'It's a requirement,' Mycroft added.

''Cause you're a maniac,' was Greg's comment.

Sherlock scowled at all of them and folded his arms to pout. Mycroft rolled his eyes but made sure Sherlock was walking ahead of him; he'd be able to grab the younger teen if he tried to take off that way.

As they walked, Mycroft leaned over to whisper in Greg's ear. 'Are you okay?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'I was just... surprised.' Mycroft raised an eyebrow and Greg knew what he was asking. 'You already know.'

'I deduced, but I _can_ be wrong,' Mycroft said.

'How often are you wrong?' Greg asked. Mycroft's answer was a slight smirk. 'Exactly.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'So they're dating?' he asked softly.

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'Not too serious at the moment. When Mum brings him home, _that's_ when I gotta give him the talk.'

'The talk?' Mycroft echoed.

'Well... yeah,' Greg nodded. 'You know, the "if you hurt my mum I'll hunt you down with knives" talk.'

'Oh,' Mycroft said and tilted his head. 'I thought that only applied to siblings.'

Greg snorted. 'Nope. Mum's had two serious boyfriends since dad left; one when I was fourteen, they broke up 'cause he was a homophobe; and one when I was sixteen that got a new job in Cardiff. Mum was a bit upset over that one, they dated almost a year.'

'That's unfortunate,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah,' Greg agreed, 'but... she's never given' up, you know? She's always sayin' that the right one's out there somewhere.' He paused as his eyes found Doctor Phil, who was still talking to John about all the hazards of being a doctor.

'Do you think Doctor Rider's "the one"?' Mycroft asked.

'I dunno, maybe,' Greg shrugged. 'He seems an alright bloke so far.'

'Well... we'll see by the end of the day,' Mycroft mused.

Greg smiled and looked at his boyfriend. 'Are you gonna deduce everything you can about him?'

'Of course I am.'

'Why?'

Mycroft gave him an "are you stupid?" look. 'Because your mother's an amazingly kind, beautiful woman, and she deserves to be happy.'

Greg smiled. 'Yeah, she does.'

'Sherlock will be looking as well,' Mycroft said.

'Will he?'

Mycroft nodded. 'You're my boyfriend,' he said, 'therefore you're important to Sherlock, even though he'll never say it out loud. Because I care about you, and by extension your mother, Sherlock will look out for her. Just like I look out for John because he's Sherlock's best friend.'

Greg smiled and leaned across to kiss Mycroft. 'You're amazing, do you know that?'

Mycroft smiled. They'd stopped to get the elevator and Sherlock heard Greg's words. 'Guh, you two sicken me,' the young genius scowled.

'Aww, you're just jealous 'cause you want John-'

Sherlock kicked Greg in the shin and Greg shouted in pain.

'Sherlock!' Mycroft snapped and swatted his brother over the head.

'Tell your boyfriend to keep his thoughts to himself!' Sherlock snarled as he rubbed the back of his head.

'I'll get you back for that you little bastard,' Greg scowled, limping into the elevator.

'Gregory,' Maggie sighed.

'He started it!' Greg practically shouted.

Maggie rolled her eyes and Phil chuckled. 'What?' Sherlock demanded.

'Teenagers,' the man shrugged.

Sherlock scowled at him. 'I'm watching you,' he declared.

Phil blinked and Mycroft chuckled. 'I told you,' he said to Greg.

Greg grinned at Sherlock, and Sherlock's lips tugged up in response. Maybe Greg _wouldn't_ get him back for the kick after all.


	53. Doctor Phil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Author's Note:** First off... Merry Christmas (or whatever holiday you happen to celebrate). I know, I know, I kinda took a while to post this chapter. I have no Christmas-related excuses (though my family _did_ make a surprise visit). My only excuse is that I recently watched The Avengers and have been reading Loki/Tony fanfic so... yeah, I've slept four hours in three days and need to rest.
> 
> Anywho, enjoy the chapter, and again, happy holidays :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

After lunch in the cafeteria- Greg really didn't mind the food the hospital served, he didn't get why people complained about it- Phil stood and rounded the teenagers up for the tour. Sherlock's bad mood quickly dissolved as he was showed the various labs, rooms, equipment, etc, etc.

He bounced around like he was on a sugar rush- or doped up on ecstasy- and tugged on John's hand the entire time. Poor John was dragged along like a poor parent... or poor _boyfriend_.

Greg and Mycroft walked a little behind them, Doctor Phil in the middle, and Mycroft spent his time either smiling at his brother's antics, sneaking quick kisses and touches with his boyfriend, or rushing ahead to stop Sherlock grabbing medical equipment.

Mycroft had to break away from Greg to grab Sherlock when the younger Holmes entered a patient room. There were six beds, three either side of the room, and five of them were occupied.

Sherlock jumped onto one and demanded, 'How long until you die?'

The woman blinked at him and Mycroft quickly hoisted his brother off the bed. 'My apologies, my brother has a social disorder,' Mycroft explained.

'I do not,' Sherlock huffed and flapped his arms about, trying to worm his way free from Mycroft's arms.

'What would you call it?' Mycroft demanded.

Sherlock scowled but let himself be lowered to the floor. He immediately took off and Mycroft rubbed his eyes while John rushed after his best friend. Mycroft looked up at Greg and Doctor Phil, who were standing in the doorway.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft apologised.

'It's okay,' Phil smiled. 'He's just... enthusiastic.'

'A nightmare,' Mycroft replied and followed them from the room.

'Believe me, I've seen stranger in hospitals,' Phil said. They caught sight of Sherlock stabbing at the button to the elevator and John trying to calm him down. 'Drunks falling over themselves,' Phil continued, 'men and women trying to kill each other because someone forgot to make dinner; junkies OD-ing on all kinds of crap.'

Mycroft ducked his head and Greg looked at him. He could never forget that Mycroft had once been an addict; had overdosed and had to be taken to hospital in an ambulance. He didn't know exactly how long Mycroft had been addicted to cocaine, or even if he'd taken anything else. And really, Greg didn't want to ask; it was Mycroft's business, after all, and he said he was clean. Greg trusted him and respected his privacy.

Phil noticed the sudden quiet and somewhat tense mood that had descended and looked between Greg and Mycroft. He didn't have to ask to know what was going on; he was a doctor and a smart man. He'd seen his fair share of junkies and people getting themselves clean.

He just pursed his lips and ushered the teenagers into the elevator.

'Are we going to the morgue now?' Sherlock demanded.

Phil glanced at him. 'Well...'

'I assure you it's fine,' Mycroft said. 'We've visited morgues before; neither of us is worried about seeing dead people.'

Phil looked at John, who said, 'My uncle's a doctor, I've seen dead people before.'

'Me too,' Greg added. 'So no worries here.'

'Alrighty then,' Phil chuckled. 'To the morgue it is.'

Sherlock started bouncing up and down, entire body alight with energy, and John grinned at him while Mycroft rubbed his eyes in exasperation.

When they reached the morgue both Mycroft and John followed Sherlock to make sure he didn't touch the bodies. He was allowed to open the freezer doors and take a peek, but other than that he was made to keep his hands to himself.

Greg and Phil stood by the doors, Phil leaning against a table and Greg against the wall with his arms folded.

'Mycroft was an addict,' Phil stated in a soft voice. He looked at Greg when the teenager didn't answer. 'Your mother doesn't know,' Phil continued.

Greg wet his lips. 'No, she doesn't.'

Phil nodded.

'He's clean,' Greg continued and glanced at the older man.

'I believe you,' Phil nodded. 'He looks healthy.'

Greg looked up at his boyfriend, who was slapping Sherlock's hands. 'He got clean before he moved here,' Greg admitted softly, making sure his voice didn't carry. He didn't know _why_ he was telling a stranger this. He guessed a part of him wanted to defend his boyfriend. He didn't need Phil going to Maggie and mouthing off about her son dating a junkie.

'I'd say he's been clean... two years,' Phil said.

'How'd you know?' Greg demanded, his head snapping up to look at the doctor.

'I'm a doctor, I've seen it before,' Phil shrugged. 'It's been long enough that he looks healthy and doesn't have to worry about slipping. But not so long ago that he's able to completely forget about it when someone brings up junkies.'

Greg sighed and turned away again. 'I didn't know him when he... used,' he said slowly, 'it was before he lived here, before we really started getting to know each other.'

'Your mother said you weren't the best of friends until recently.'

'Yeah,' Greg chuckled. 'I hated him,' he admitted, 'but I didn't know him. He pretended to be someone he wasn't, and I hated that someone.'

'But you're happy now?' Phil asked.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded before blinking. He frowned and turned to the man. 'Why all the questions?'

'I'm interested,' Phil said. 'I like your mother and I want to get to know you.'

'So... you _are_ dating?' Greg asked.

'Your mother didn't tell you?'

Greg shrugged one shoulder. 'She said you'd been out on a couple of dates.'

'About five or six,' Phil confirmed. 'We're taking it slow; we've both made mistakes in the past. And there's no reason to rush this. Plus she has you to think about, and I have my own family.'

Greg frowned and glanced at him.

'I have a son,' Phil said. 'Shawn Johnson. He's eighteen; dropped out of school when we still lived in New Zealand because he got his girlfriend pregnant.'

Greg turned to face him properly. 'You're a grandfather?'

Phil nodded and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his wallet and held it out to Greg. Greg flipped it open and found a picture of a young couple in their late teens, the girl holding a little baby with bright red hair.

'His name's Harrison, or Harry,' Phil said. 'He turned one last week.'

'Congrats,' Greg said, because really he couldn't think of anything else to say.

Phil chuckled and took his wallet back. 'Shawn was the result of a drunken night when I was in med school,' he said. 'And he went and knocked his girlfriend up. They both live with me because Maddy's parents wanted her to have an abortion. When she refused they stopped speaking to her, and Maddy moved in with Shawn and me.'

'I'm sorry about that,' Greg said honestly. 'Mum was worried I'd get some girl pregnant- you know, before I came out.'

Phil nodded in understanding and put his wallet away. 'I was disappointed, I'll admit,' he said, 'but Shawn and Maddy are great parents. They both work to support their son, but they let me help. I'm thankful for it. I wasn't around when Shawn was a kid; his mum raised him until she passed away when he was fifteen.'

'Sorry,' Greg said.

'She had cancer,' Phil said and sighed. 'She was a beautiful woman but... we weren't right for each other.'

Greg wet his lips and slowly looked up at the doctor. 'Why are you telling me all this?'

Phil smiled. 'I like your mum, Greg. As I said, I want to get to know you. You don't trust me yet, which is understandable. You're looking out for your mum.'

'She's been hurt before,' Greg said. 'I just want her to be happy.'

'So do I,' Phil nodded. 'Which is why I'll do everything in my power to make her happy. We're taking this relationship slow because we both have responsibilities to our families. Shawn, Maddy and Harry are the most important people in my life, and you're the most important person in Maggie's life. We're not going to do anything to upset that.'

Greg nodded. 'I, um...' he trailed off until Phil looked at him and took a deep breath. 'I'm fine with my mum dating,' he said, 'as long as you treat her right, we don't have a problem.' Phil smiled. 'And I appreciate your honesty.'

'I've always been honest with the people in my life,' Phil said. 'If I'm honest with you, I hope you'll be honest with me.'

'Yeah,' Greg said, 'well... I appreciate it, so... we have no problems.'

Phil smiled. 'Thank you, Greg.'

'I'm sorry for earlier,' Greg said. 'I was just worried.'

'I get that,' Phil said.

Greg smiled slightly at him. 'If, um... if Shawn and Maddy ever need... anyone to show 'em around, I don't mind,' he said. 'Movin' to a new place can be hard, especially with a baby.'

'Thank you, Greg,' Phil said. 'I'll let Shawn know.'

There was a few minutes of silence before Greg asked, 'Do... do you love my mum?'

'We've only been dating a few months,' Phil said. 'It's a bit early to bring out the L word.'

Greg frowned slightly and looked down. He and Mycroft had been together about three months... but they'd technically only been dating a few weeks. So why did Greg feel all... funny on the inside? Like Mycroft was the only person he ever wanted to be with?

Why did Mycroft instantly make Greg smile, just by being there, or even just texting back? Why could Greg imagine a future with his boyfriend, one where they lived together and got married and did all that grown up crap together?

Was it... love? Or was Greg just being one of those stupid teenagers who thought their first serious partner was the love of their life?

'Greg?'

Greg blinked out of his thoughts and realised Doctor Phil was looking at him, worry in his eyes.

'Er... sorry, lost in thought,' Greg said.

'I really do care about your mum,' Phil insisted, 'but neither of us wants to rush this.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Yeah, I get that. Just... treat her right, yeah? 'Cause she's awesome, and she deserves the best.'

'I know,' Phil agreed. 'And I'll try my best to make her happy, Greg.'

'Good.'

Their conversation was cut short when Sherlock bounced over. He had tugged John along with him and their fingers were linked. John blushed brightly when Greg noticed but for once Greg didn't call attention to it. Sherlock was in a good mood; if he wanted to hold his best friend's hand, so be it.

Besides, Sherlock in a good mood meant fewer headaches for Mycroft, and therefore better times for Greg.

'Have fun?' Phil asked.

'Yes!' Sherlock practically shouted. 'The decomposition of human flesh is just... I can't even... I need to write down my findings!'

'He forgot his notebook again,' John rolled his eyes.

Phil smiled and pushed off the desk he was leaning against. He opened a drawer and found a yellow notepad. He grabbed a pen and handed both to Sherlock. 'I'm sure Dr Mallard won't mind you using his notepad.'

'Serious?' Sherlock grinned.

Phil nodded and Sherlock grabbed the pen and notepad with one hand before tugging John back towards the body.

'So he's behaving himself?' Greg asked Mycroft, who'd been standing just behind the younger teenagers.

'Amazingly enough, yes,' Mycroft nodded. He looked between Phil and Greg and raised an eyebrow.

Greg smiled and unfolded his arms. He held a hand out and Mycroft hesitated only briefly before crossing the distance between them. Greg folded Mycroft into his body and rested his chin on the genius' shoulder.

'Are you okay?' Mycroft whispered.

Greg thought about his talk with Doctor Phil and smiled. 'Yeah,' he murmured, 'I'm right.'

 

{oOo}

 

After Sherlock had used up the notepad he'd been given, the four teenagers and Doctor Phil headed back up. Phil's shift started in twenty minutes and he had to go talk to a nurse about a patient he was treating before doing his rounds. They headed back up to Maggie's floor and found her talking to another doctor.

Maggie flashed them a smile before getting the doctor's signature and flipping the blue folder shut. 'Have fun?' she asked when they reached her.

'It was brilliant!' Sherlock announced with a grin.

Maggie chuckled and Mycroft said, 'Thank you for letting us come.' He turned to Doctor Phil. 'And thank you for taking the time to show us around.'

'Not a problem,' Phil said. 'If Sherlock wants to come back he's more than welcome.'

'Are you serious?' Sherlock demanded.

'Of course,' Phil nodded.

Sherlock eyed him for a few seconds before beaming. 'Brilliant.'

John smiled at his best friend as Greg hugged his mum. 'I've got a party tonight, but me and Mycroft will probably eat before heading out. We should be back around one or two in the morning.'

'Okay, love,' Maggie said and patted Greg's hair.

'Do you want me to order you something?' Greg asked.

'That'd be nice; whatever you want,' Maggie said. She glanced at Phil before whispering to Greg, 'You didn't give him a hard time, did you?'

'No,' Greg huffed. 'He's... nice.'

Maggie smiled and kissed her son's cheek. 'Thank you, Greg.'

'No worries,' Greg smiled. And really, he _was_ fine. He didn't yet completely trust Doctor Phillip Rider, but from what he'd seen so far, he was a good man. He'd treated Greg like an adult, something Maggie's past boyfriends hadn't done. Phil clearly didn't have a problem with Greg being gay, and he himself was a single parent so he understood what Maggie had been through.

So far... Greg actually liked the bloke. He'd taken time out of his day to show Sherlock around, had been understanding when he learned that Mycroft was an ex-junkie, and had sat down and explained his family situation, and his relationship to Maggie.

Greg smiled again when his mum patted his cheek. He kind of hoped Doctor Phil worked out. He wanted his mum to be happy.


	54. Party Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Party Poison by My Chemical Romance

Sherlock wouldn't shut up about bodies and rotting flesh and livers as they drove to Holmes Manor. John was staying the night and had spare clothes in Sherlock's room. Greg and Mycroft just let Sherlock talk while John actually asked questions, the two discussing the human body.

Mycroft drove through the large iron gates and dropped Sherlock and John off in front of the house. It was going on five and he and Greg wanted to eat before heading over to Matt Sanders' at eight.

'You two behave,' Mycroft ordered. 'Mrs Hudson and Mr Andrew will make you dinner.'

'Thank you, Mycroft,' John said politely.

'Sod off,' was Sherlock's response and he bounded up the front steps into the house.

Mycroft just smiled as John closed the door. 'Thank you for doing this,' Mycroft said when he and Greg were alone.

Greg looked at him. 'What'd I do?'

'Set up today,' Mycroft said. 'Thank you.'

'No worries,' Greg shrugged. 'You should really thank my mum and Doctor Phil.'

Mycroft chuckled as he drove back through the gates and pulled onto the road. 'Are you always going to call him that?'

'Why not?' Greg smiled. 'It's a cool nickname.'

'If you say so.'

Greg glanced at his boyfriend before saying, 'He knows you were an addict.'

Mycroft nodded. 'I know,' he said. 'I could tell.'

'You okay with it?'

The genius shrugged and said, 'There's nothing I can do about it. I _was_ an addict. It's a time of my life I'm not proud of but I can't change it.' He looked across at Greg, who was staring out the window. 'I started when I was fourteen,' he said.

'You don't have to tell me,' Greg quickly said.

'I want to,' Mycroft replied. He took a deep breath. 'I figured out I was gay when I was fourteen. A few weeks after that I started hanging out with the wrong type of people. I got drunk a lot because it made me forget my troubles. I tried ecstasy and pot before someone brought cocaine to a party I was attending. I... got hooked fairly easily.'

'Mycroft-'

'I was an addict for just over a year,' Mycroft interrupted. 'Sherlock figured it out about three months after I started. He searched my room and found needles. I preferred... shooting up.'

'Jesus,' Greg gaped.

'It was easier to hide than a bloody nose,' Mycroft told him. 'He tried to get me clean but he was young, he didn't understand why I was going it.' Mycroft shook his head. 'I was an idiot.'

'You were trying to run from your problems,' Greg said. 'I did the same thing, but I used alcohol and sex.'

'So did I,' Mycroft said, 'I just added a cocaine addiction on top of it.' He sighed and rubbed his eyes as they pulled up at a red light. He turned to look at Greg. 'I OD'd twice. The first time a guy at the party took me to the hospital. We were... friends, I suppose, but I didn't want to get clean. Two months later I almost died in my bathroom. Sherlock called an ambulance and forced me to get clean. He told Anthea and Mr Andrew, who both helped. Without them...'

'Mycroft,' Greg reached out and took his boyfriend's hand. 'I understand, okay? I don't like that you did that, and I really don't want you to _ever_ turn back to drugs. But you're clean now and... that's all that matters.'

The light changed and Greg had to let go of Mycroft's hand. They drove in silence for a few minutes until Mycroft said, 'I don't want to go back to the way I was. Sherlock and Anthea both check in every now and then; Sherlock makes me show him my arms when he thinks I'm in danger of slipping. I've never, not once, considered using again.'

'Are you sure?'

Mycroft nodded.

'Okay,' Greg breathed out loudly. 'If... if you ever _do_ feel like using again,' he said slowly, 'just... tell me, yeah? I won't judge, I'll just try and help.'

Mycroft smiled slightly. 'Thank you.'

'No worries.'

Mycroft glanced at Greg. 'Honestly, Gregory; thank you. Not many people would be as understanding as you.'

'We all have our faults, we've all made stupid mistakes,' Greg said. 'I can't judge you for what you did in the past. All I can do is help.'

'Thank you,' Mycroft repeated.

Greg just smiled.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg ordered Indian food when they got back to his house and Mycroft went to pick it up. They both needed a few minutes alone to collect their thoughts. Greg had been telling the truth when he spoke to Mycroft earlier; he would never judge Mycroft for his past actions.

He'd made mistakes, like Greg had, like everyone did at some point in their lives. All Greg could do was be there for Mycroft, be understanding, and try to help if the genius ever slipped up.

When Mycroft returned with the food Greg was waiting on the sofa, a DVD in the player, and cold drinks on the coffee table. Mycroft smiled and put Maggie's food in the fridge, grabbed some forks, and plopped onto the sofa with his boyfriend.

The two snuggled up as they ate and watched Doctor Who. The air had cleared a bit and neither brought up their conversation. Greg knew that he'd be there for Mycroft, and Mycroft knew Greg understood.

They could both let it go.

At ten to eight Mycroft disappeared to get changed for the party while Greg cleaned up. He put the leftovers in the fridge, threw out the rubbish, and turned the TV and DVD off.

After that he went to his bedroom and caught sight of Mycroft.

The red-head had changed into a long-sleeved black and white striped shirt, with a black blazer over the top that was a shade lighter than his tight jeans. Greg could see a black and white checked belt around his waist, and he had a white tie wrapped around his neck despite not wearing a collared shirt.

He hadn't put his makeup on yet, but he had the case in his hand when he turned to smile at Greg.

'Damn,' Greg sighed. 'How am I supposed to keep my hands off you?'

'You're not; that's the point,' Mycroft chuckled. He kissed Greg on the cheek and said, 'I'll be back in a minute,' before disappearing down the hallway and to the bathroom.

Greg smiled as he changed his own clothes; he went for a black button-up shirt with a blood-red tie, skinny red jeans, and his black Chucks. He put a black and red checked belt on before going to the mirror hanging on the back of his wardrobe door.

After messing his hair up, Greg shut his wardrobe door and turned. Mycroft was leaning against the doorframe watching him. He'd smudged eyeshadow over his lids and his eyes were lined with thick black eyeliner.

Greg grinned as he walked closer and couldn't help but notice that Mycroft's eyes rolled from his feet right up to his face.

'Checking me out?' Greg asked.

'Maybe,' Mycroft smiled. When Greg reached him Mycroft slid his arms around Greg's waist. 'You look gorgeous.'

Greg glanced down at himself. 'I _do_ clean up nice, don't I?' he grinned.

Mycroft rolled his eyes but leaned in and gave Greg a soft kiss.

'You look nice too,' Greg whispered.

'Do I?'

'Mm,' Greg hummed. He raised his right hand and brushed his thumb along the light dusting of freckles across Mycroft's pale cheek. 'Absolutely stunning, really.'

'You know how to save yourself,' Mycroft chuckled.

''Course I do,' Greg said. 'I'm charming.' He flashed Mycroft a cheeky grin and the red-head laughed.

'Yes you are,' he agreed. He kissed Greg again and said, 'Are we walking?'

'Yeah, Matt's place is just around the corner.' Greg slid into a tight black jacket that had badges on the lapels and stuffed his phone, cigarettes, wallet and keys into his pockets.

Mycroft stopped him and Greg raised his eyebrows as he looked up. 'Just reading the badges,' Mycroft said. 'I haven't seen you wear this jacket before.'

Greg smiled as Mycroft looked over the four badges he'd pinned to his jacket; there were two Green Day ones, one with the white arm holding the red hand grenade from the _American Idiot_ album, and one that had Green Day written in green across a white background; one was a simple black skull and crossbones on a white background; and the last was a Dalek from Doctor Who.

'I like them,' Mycroft finally said.

'I got heaps more,' Greg said and gestured at his desk.

'I'm fine,' Mycroft smiled and kissed him again. He pulled away and slapped Greg's arse. 'Now let's go.'

'Cheeky boy slut,' Greg said and led the way from the bedroom. Mycroft laughed as he followed.

 

{oOo}

 

There were already a fair few teenagers hanging around Matt's sitting room when Greg and Mycroft arrived. Pretty much all of them turned to stare as the couple made their way into the kitchen.

'Hello, hello,' Matt said, grinning from ear-to-ear. 'So... how are you two doin'?'

'Shut up,' Greg huffed and handed across ten quid. Mycroft did the same and they both grabbed a bottle of beer from the fridge.

'What?' Matt said and held his hands up. 'I just asked how you're doing.' He was still grinning stupidly and Greg rolled his eyes.

'You _know_ me and Mycroft are dating,' Greg said. 'Why are you actin' all... weird?'

'Well,' Matt laughed and leaned against the kitchen counter, 'I never thought I'd see the day where Greg Lestrade defends Mycroft Holmes... his _boyfriend_.'

'Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,' Greg muttered and twisted the cap of his beer free. He took a healthy swig and scowled at Matt.

'I heard you beat the shit outta Dylan,' Matt continued. 'I saw him leavin' school afterwards with a busted nose.'

'Serves him right,' Greg grunted.

'So you two haven't worked things out?' Matt asked.

Greg shrugged. 'There's nothing to work out. Dylan's a prick. End of story.'

Matt raised both eyebrows. 'Serious?' he asked. 'Just... five years of friendship down the drain?'

'He tried to beat up my boyfriend,' Greg pointed out and wrapped an arm around Mycroft's waist.

Matt smiled and shook his head. 'Right, right,' he chuckled. 'Fair enough.'

A few people had converged on the kitchen and were listening with rapt fascination... though they were _trying_ to appear as though they weren't eavesdropping. Greg scowled as he turned around and Mycroft quickly hooked his own arm around Greg's neck.

'Excuse us while we go snog,' he said to Matt.

Matt laughed again and waved them away. Greg and Mycroft pushed through the assembled crowd, Greg throwing glares at them, Mycroft ignoring them.

'Honestly, they got nothing better to look at?' Greg growled when they reached the furthest corner of the sitting room.

Mycroft smiled and let Greg go. He turned his back on the sitting room and said, 'They're just interested in seeing how we work,' he said.

'Bunch of fuckin' losers with no life,' Greg muttered. 'Though I suppose I'd be interested too. I mean, you whipped the town's number one boy slut.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes and took a long drink of beer. 'You're an idiot,' he stated.

'Yet you're dating me,' Greg smirked.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. Greg looked over his shoulder to see even more people staring their way and sighed.

'Seriously, ignore them. They've just got nothing better to do than focus on our sex life,' Mycroft said.

'I don't care about them,' Greg shrugged, 'it's just annoying.'

Suddenly Greg grinned sinfully and Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

'Let's give 'em something _really_ interesting to talk about,' Greg said before sealing his lips to Mycroft's.

Mycroft couldn't help but moan softly as Greg's skilful lips pried apart his own, tongue darting into to stroke languidly against Mycroft's. He'd never get over the sheer thrill that came with kissing Greg, and still didn't know _why_ he enjoyed it so much. But he'd stopped thinking about that long ago, and now he just let the feelings wash over him.

Mycroft moved his cup to his left hand so he could thread his right fingers through Greg's short, spiky brown hair. He tugged forcefully, making Greg deepen the kiss that little bit more. His tongue was now thoroughly exploring the inside of Mycroft's mouth, and Mycroft's own tongue flicked and licked against his, tongue piercing never failing to send shivers of pleasure down Greg's spine.

'Fuck, you're gorgeous,' Greg said when they broke apart for air. They were both slightly breathless, lips well on their way to being thoroughly swollen, and Greg could feel his face and entire body heating up.

Mycroft just smiled and pulled him back in for another thorough snog, pressing his body against Greg's and making the older boy moan. Greg quickly wrapped his free arm around Mycroft's waist and made him move back, Mycroft letting out a breath of air that Greg swallowed as his back connected with the wall.

Their lips never moved away from each other, at least not for more than three seconds, and their eyes had slid shut, brains going fuzzy as they enjoyed each other's lips and tongues, the heat and strength as they rutted against each other, the way Mycroft's fingers tugged and pulled at Greg's hair and Greg's own fingers dug into Mycroft's hips.

A slap to the shoulder had Greg tearing himself away from his boyfriend, and Mycroft made a loud sound of annoyance. Dimmock was standing behind them, one arm around Molly's waist, the other hand curled around a cup of beer.

Greg sighed and sipped his own before saying, 'Is there a fucking reason you interrupted?'

'I gotta tell you something,' Dimmock said.

'Can't it wait until I've snogged my boyfriend?' Greg demanded. He turned back to Mycroft, kissing him quickly, and Mycroft deepened it. Greg grinned against his boyfriend's lips and Mycroft's arm wound around his neck, keeping him in place as Greg groaned.

'Oi, I'm fucking talking here,' Dimmock said, kneeing Greg in the arse.

Greg and Mycroft broke apart with a soft wet noise that made Molly blush lightly. 'What?' Greg growled.

'Surely whatever you have to say can wait until we're done,' Mycroft said, pushing off the wall and standing beside Greg.

Greg grinned and wrapped his arm around Mycroft's neck, leaning against him as he said, 'And _that_ is why we're dating.'

Mycroft snorted. 'Couldn't be because of how good my arse looks in leather?'

'Oh, that's a real big part of it,' Greg nodded. 'Your arse is just fucking amazing, Mycroft, I dunno how you do it.'

'It's a gift,' Mycroft chuckled, turning to look at him.

Dimmock sighed as they started kissing again, paying no mind to his glare and Molly's awkward shuffling. When things began to grow heated- Dimmock could see a _lot_ of tongue, as well as Mycroft's hand sliding down the back of Greg's jeans- Dimmock grabbed them both and pushed them apart forcefully.

'What?' they both snarled.

'If you two would stop mouth-fucking each other for five fucking minutes,' Dimmock said.

'Mouth-fucking, I like that,' Greg grinned, arm still wrapped around Mycroft's neck. 'You definitely don't kiss, Mikey, it's mouth-fucking.'

' _Anyway_ ,' Dimmock tried.

'Fuck off, Dimmo, you're giving me the shits,' Greg scowled.

'Fuck you too,' Dimmock said.

Greg's fist flew out and smacked into Dimmock's shoulder, the other teenager grunting as pain exploded up his arm.

'You fucking cunt,' Dimmock groaned.

Greg's smirk was short-lived when Molly punched him in the arm, saying, 'Don't hit my boyfriend.'

'Ow, Jesus _fuck_ ,' Greg groaned, rubbing his aching arm. 'Where the fuck have you been hiding that, Hooper?'

Molly just smirked as Greg continued to rub his arm, Mycroft smiling at him and Dimmock snickering.

'Anyway,' Dimmock tried again now that Greg and Mycroft weren't joined at the lips, 'where the fuck were you two today? You missed the best shit.'

'We were fucking,' Greg answered, Molly pointedly staring at her cup of lemonade. 'Well, Mycroft was getting fucked, either one,' Greg shrugged.

Suddenly Mycroft turned, burying his face in Greg's neck and biting him _hard_. Greg yelped and pulled away, Mycroft's hand snapping up, fingers pinching the teeth marks he'd left and making Greg shout in pain.

'Ow, ow, ow, what the fuck are you doing?' Greg shouted, falling to his knees as Mycroft continued to pinch him.

'I thought we weren't talking about our sex life with other people?' Mycroft demanded, sounding calm and looking only mildly bothered.

'Sorry, fuck, just lemme go!' Greg begged.

Mycroft smirked and pulled his hand away, Greg groaning and rubbing his already bruising neck.

'Jesus fucking Christ, easy there,' Greg grumbled. 'If you break me who's gonna fuck you- _okay_!' He cut himself off with a shout and jump when Mycroft moved to bite him again. 'Sorry, sorry,' he grunted, rubbing his neck.

Dimmock was chuckling and Molly smiling fondly at them. 'You two are cute together,' she stated.

'Are we?' Mycroft asked.

''Course we are; look at us,' Greg said, smiling hesitantly at his boyfriend. When Mycroft didn't say anything Greg wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed his cheek. 'I'm sorry, really,' he said, leaning over to whisper in Mycroft's ear. 'I won't say anything, promise.'

'You'd better not or I'll never ride you again,' Mycroft replied pleasantly.

Greg groaned, burying his face in Mycroft's neck. 'You're fucking evil, you know that?'

'Mm, I do,' Mycroft nodded.

Greg kissed his way up Mycroft's neck, smirking when the other boy shivered slightly, and when Mycroft turned Greg crushed their mouths together. They only got a few seconds of kissing in before Dimmock was once again tearing them apart.

'Dimmo, I'm gonna fucking shove my foot up your arse if you don't fuck off,' Greg growled.

'What happened to bro's before ho's?' Dimmock asked.

Greg scowled. 'You calling Mycroft a ho?'

'Er...' Dimmock glanced at Mycroft, who was smirking, and to Greg, who was glaring. 'No?' he tried.

'That's what I thought,' Greg said, kicking Dimmock quickly in the thigh and making the younger boy wince. 'Anyway, what the fuck do you want?'

'Dylan got into another fight,' Dimmock stated before Greg and Mycroft could find each other's lips again.

Greg frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'He was at Tesco with Joe this afternoon,' Dimmock told them, 'I was there with my dad. Anyway, you know how Andy's dating John Ralling?' Both Mycroft and Greg nodded. 'Well they were there. And they weren't doin' anything _that_ graphic, just holdin' hands, laughing together, and kissing.

'So Dylan sees them, right, and he was already mouthin' off about you and Mycroft,' Dimmock continued. Greg groaned. 'So Dylan sees John and Andy and just fucking starts on them. Like, outta nowhere, he starts screaming at them and callin' them all sorts of shit.'

'God damn it,' Greg sighed.

'Yeah, well John didn't take too kindly to Dylan shoutin' at his boyfriend,' Dimmock grinned. 'He beat the absolute _shit_ outta Dylan. Almost broke his arm.'

'Fuck, are you serious?' Greg asked.

'Mm-hmm,' Molly nodded as she slurped her lemonade. 'Andy told me all about it afterwards. Dylan just went nuts and completely flipped out. John took him down, though.'

'Shit,' Greg sighed and ruffled his hair. 'When did this happen?'

'Today, 'bout... dunno, two or three,' Dimmock shrugged. 'Joe didn't know what to do.'

'Shit,' Greg repeated. 'I had no idea Dylan was this... homophobic.'

'Mm,' Dimmock nodded.

'I mean, we've been mates since we were twelve,' Greg continued. 'Well, we _were_ mates... he had no problem when I came out, or even when _you_ came out.'

Dimmock shrugged. 'I dunno what to tell you, Greg. I guess he's been hiding how he really feels.'

They lapsed into silence, all four of them drinking and thinking. Mycroft caught sight of something in the kitchen and nudged his boyfriend. Greg looked up and spotted Dylan through the crowd.

He was standing just inside the kitchen, watching as Joe grabbed a beer from the never-ending supply Matt and BJ had put out. Suddenly Dylan turned and his eyes locked with Greg's.

His face was a patchwork of purple, blue, and yellow bruises, and he was limping slightly as he walked into the sitting room. John had really done a number on him and Greg felt a smirk spread across his face.

Dylan saw it and flipped Greg off before storming- well, _limping_ \- outside. Joe looked up just in time to catch the interaction and sighed. Greg offered him a shrug and Joe smiled weakly before going after his mate.

'Are you okay?' Mycroft asked softly, having seen the entire thing.

Greg nodded and reached back to grab Mycroft's hand. He linked their fingers and Mycroft squeezed them gently. 'Yeah,' Greg nodded, 'I'm fine.'

'I take it you and Dylan still haven't made up?' Dimmock said from behind Greg.

Greg sighed; he hadn't told anyone about the talk he and Mycroft had had with Dylan. He assumed Dylan had told Joe- or at least told him some version of it- and figured he might as well tell Dimmock.

So he turned and quickly told Dimmock and Molly what had happened. Mycroft just kept a firm grip on his hand, occasionally squeezing Greg's fingers to show his support. When he was done Greg took a long drink of his beer.

'That's horrible,' Molly said.

'What a prick,' was Dimmock's response. 'No wonder he went ape-shit on John and Andy.'

'Yeah,' Greg sighed. He took another sip of beer before saying, 'I offered to try and move on but he refused so...'

'I don't get it,' Dimmock said. 'I mean, it's not like you datin' Mycroft has changed anything... well, you spend less time with us, and you're always busy, but other than that you're still the same guy.'

Greg frowned. 'I'm not sure if that was a compliment or an insult.'

'Um... how about both?' Dimmock grinned.

Greg chuckled and kicked Dimmock in the leg, but it wasn't too hard and Dimmock grinned at him afterwards. Greg's smile quickly melted away and he sighed before finishing his beer.

'I'm gonna get another one,' he murmured. 'Anyone want anything?'

'I'm fine,' Mycroft said while Dimmock and Molly both shook their heads. They watched Greg push through the crowd and into the kitchen.

'Is he okay?' Molly asked.

'No,' Mycroft said and turned to the girl. 'How would you feel if you're so-called-friend hated you simply because you were gay?'

'It's awful,' Molly sighed. 'My parents are very strict Catholics. As long as they don't see or hear about homosexuality, they're fine. They pretty much ignore Andy when we have family events.' Mycroft frowned at her, clearly confused, and Molly said, 'Andy's my cousin on my mum's side. His parents are fine with him being gay, but my parents...' she trailed off and shrugged.

'I see,' Mycroft mused. When Greg came back Mycroft tilted his head before finishing off his beer and setting it on the floor.

He swiped Dimmock's half-finished one and Dimmock said, 'Oi!'

'We're going outside to make out in peace,' Mycroft said, jumping aside when Dimmock tried to get his beer back. Mycroft wrapped an arm around Greg's shoulders and pulled him towards the back doors.

'Fuck you, Mycroft!' Dimmock shouted.

'You wish, _Michael_!' Mycroft retorted, holding Dimmock's beer above his head.

Dimmock rolled his eyes and Molly chuckled, kissing his cheek as Mycroft and Greg disappeared.

'I'll get you another beer,' Molly smiled.

'Nah, s'fine,' Dimmock said. 'Mycroft's just helping Greg get some space.'

Molly's smile broadened. 'They're good together,' she stated.

'Yeah,' Dimmock nodded and looked at the backdoor. 'They are.'


	55. Invincible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Invincible by Muse
> 
> **Author's Note:** Sorry for the long wait, it's just been really, really hot where I live, and I have no energy when I feel like I'm living in an oven. I hope you like the chapter :]
> 
> {Dreamer}

The back deck was empty and Mycroft slid the doors shut behind him. When he turned back around Greg was leaning against the railing, both hands clasped around his beer. Mycroft dug out his cigarettes and lit two, passing one to his boyfriend when he'd joined him.

'Thanks,' Greg muttered.

Mycroft nodded and they lapsed into silence, both smoking and staring across the dark lawn. 'Are you okay?' Mycroft finally asked.

Greg sighed and ran a hand over his face. 'I guess. It's just... weird, you know? I mean, I've known Dylan since we were twelve, and then he goes and pulls this shit?' He sighed again and took a long drag of his cigarette. 'I can't believe I didn't see the homophobe he really is.'

'You can't know everything about everyone, Gregory,' Mycroft said, rolling his fag between two fingers. 'You can never really know someone unless they choose to let you in.'

'Like how I didn't really know you?' Greg asked.

Mycroft smiled. 'Exactly.' Greg gave a weak one in response and leaned heavily against the railing. 'Gregory, I know it's upsetting,' Mycroft said, his boyfriend glancing at him, 'but Dylan's in your past. Don't remember the bad times, remember the good ones.'

'We did have some laughs,' Greg admitted, blowing smoke rings above their heads. 'It's just weird.'

'I know,' Mycroft said. He snaked his right arm around Greg's waist, and Greg leaned against him as they smoked.

A few minutes later the backdoor slid open and Molly and Dimmock joined them, the latter raising his eyebrows.

'Well look at this, they're not joined at the mouth.'

'Jealous, Dimmo?' Greg queried.

'Like I want your used-arse,' Dimmock quipped.

'Just makes it good at taking cock,' Mycroft shot at him. Dimmock snorted and Molly blushed. 'I apologise, Ms Hooper,' Mycroft said to the girl, not looking sorry in the least.

'Please, my sister swears worse than you lot,' Molly said, brushing his fake-apology aside. 'As long as I don't have to see you two humping each other I'm fine.'

'Now there's a good idea,' Greg said and turned quickly. He kissed Mycroft's neck before licking a trail up to his ear.

'Fuck off, you horny dog,' Mycroft grunted and tried to push his partner away.

'You wound me,' Greg pouted, burying his face in Mycroft's neck and fake-whimpering. 'Come on, Mikey, I need some lovin'.'

'I gave you loving all day,' Mycroft muttered.

'Well I need more, fucking you half a dozen times just isn't gonna cut it,' Greg said.

Mycroft scowled at him and said, 'What the fuck did I say about talking about our sex life?'

'Erm...' Greg said before grinning, 'let everyone know that I totally fucked that gorgeous arse of yours at least eight times today?'

Dimmock laughed as Mycroft went to hit Greg, only for Greg to dart away, skipping about the back deck on the balls of his feet.

'Come here so I can fucking hit you!' Mycroft ordered.

'Gotta catch me first,' Greg replied with a grin and tongue-wag. Mycroft stormed across the deck and Greg backed away before hitting the railing. He grabbed it and quickly jumped over, falling to the grass and rolling to his feet, beer forgotten on the lawn. He looked up at a visibly-pissed off Mycroft. 'What, giving up?' he grinned.

Mycroft downed his beer, threw the cup aside, and leapt over the railing. Greg grinned before running, his boyfriend chasing after him. Dimmock and Molly tried to keep track of them but they soon disappeared into the dark.

And then they heard, 'Ow, that's my fucking cock!'

Dimmock chuckled, Molly giggling, when they heard Mycroft shout, 'See if I touch it again after tonight!'

'I'm sorry, Mycroft, please!'

'Fuck you!'

The backdoor slid open again as Mycroft and Greg continued to shout and fight each other, the odd whimper of pain and shout of triumph rolling across the grass. BJ Masters lit a cigarette and blinked as he walked over to Dimmock and Molly, frowning when he heard the shouting.

'The fuck's going on out here?' he asked.

'Mycroft and Greg are fighting,' Molly said.

'Or fucking, we're not sure,' Dimmock shrugged.

BJ snorted and the three stood in silence as Greg and Mycroft's shouting got closer. Suddenly Greg appeared, limping back away from Mycroft, who had his arms folded.

'Sorry, I'm sorry,' Greg tried, holding both hands out.

'Again,' Mycroft ordered.

Greg stopped, Mycroft continuing to walk towards him. 'Mycroft, honey, I'm sorry I talked about our sex life. I'll never, ever say anything ever again, because what happens in the bedroom is between us.'

'And?' Mycroft asked.

'Erm... and you're amazing, and I'm lucky that you ever decided to give me the time of day, and you're fucking spectacular, and I'm a cunt, and... erm... you're big?'

Mycroft snorted and closed the distance between them, wrapping a hand around the back of Greg's neck and pulling him in for a snog. Greg grinned and kissed back, arms winding around Mycroft's waist and pulling him closer.

Mycroft moaned as Greg's hands fell to cup and squeeze his arse, both rutting against each other.

'Oi, Lestrade!' BJ shouted. 'Use a fucking bedroom like everyone else!'

'Fuck you, BJ!' was Greg's reply, the teenager wrapping his arms tighter around Mycroft. 'I'll fuck Mikey right here, right now, just to give you the shits!'

'Prick,' BJ said and Greg flipped him off.

Mycroft chuckled and kissed Greg's cheek before untangling himself from his partner. Greg groaned but let himself be pulled towards the house, the two dusting grass from their clothes as they walked back to the deck.

'Fucking animals,' BJ said.

'You're just a jealous prick 'cause you're probably still a fucking virgin,' Greg said.

BJ scowled and Greg stopped a few feet from the deck, grabbing Mycroft and putting the younger teen between himself and BJ.

'Do I look like a human shield to you?' Mycroft demanded.

'Yup,' Greg replied, eyes still on BJ. 'One with a fuckable arse.'

Mycroft turned and kicked Greg's legs from under him, Greg groaning as he hit the grass. Mycroft smirked and said, 'Fuck your own arse, dickhead.'

'I'd be a very happy boy if I could do that,' Greg groaned, sitting up and rubbing his back. 'And I wouldn't need your posh arse, would I?'

Mycroft stomped closer to him, intending on whacking Greg over the head, but Greg was quicker. He wrapped his arms around Mycroft's waist and pulled him down, Mycroft shouting as he fell atop Greg.

Greg grinned and held Mycroft tightly, attacking his neck with sloppy kisses.

'Fuck off, you horny slut,' Mycroft shouted, trying to squirm free.

'Come on, I need to fuck something,' Greg responded. 'Take your jeans off.'

'Fuck you!'

'Either way, I don't care,' Greg grinned, rutting his crotch up against a still squirming Mycroft.

'You fucking prick,' Mycroft growled.

'I love when you talk dirty to me,' Greg said.

Dimmock was laughing stupidly, Molly blushing, and BJ rolled his eyes. 'Un-fucking-believable,' he said before digging into his back pocket. He pulled out a squashed box of condoms and lobbed it at the couple, hitting Greg in the face.

Greg pulled away and picked it up.

'Safe sex, Lestrade!' BJ shouted.

'Thanks, Benjamin!' Greg shouted back.

'You fucking cunt,' Mycroft said, still trying to pull away. Greg rolled him onto his back and thrust their crotches together, mashing his mouth against Mycroft's. Soon Mycroft was moaning, body writhing beneath Greg's, and BJ shook his head before heading back inside.

'Horny fuckers,' Dimmock commented.

Molly just giggled and wrapped her arms around Dimmock's waist as Greg and Mycroft dry-humped on the grass.

 

{oOo}

 

After Mycroft had thumped Greg in the groin again- and Greg whimpered and rolled around on the grass for a good twenty minutes- the group headed back inside. Armed with fresh beers, Molly with a lemonade, the four stood in the corner of the sitting room laughing and chatting.

By eleven around twenty people had come up to Greg to ask if he was really dating Mycroft. Rather than answer, Greg took to snogging Mycroft thoroughly and passionately until the person either laughed and congratulated them or walked away squirming.

'You're incorrigible,' Mycroft informed his boyfriend when Lincoln Reilly had walked away bright red.

'You love it,' Greg teased.

Matt's iPod, which was sitting on a pair of speakers on the mantel, suddenly started playing Fall Out Boy's _Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?_ and Mycroft smiled. He finished his beer and put it on the coffee table. 'Let's dance,' he said and grabbed Greg's hand.

'What?'

'Let's dance,' Mycroft repeated and dragged his boyfriend into the middle of the sitting room. Various couples and single teenagers were grinding against each other and jumping up and down.

' _Noo_ ,' Greg groaned. 'I don't wanna dance to Fall Out Boy.'

Mycroft turned and raised an eyebrow. 'If you care about me and want sex tonight, you'll dance with me.'

Greg groaned again but finished off his beer and chucked it on the sofa between BJ Masters and some red-head. 'Fine,' he said

Mycroft started swaying to the music and grabbed Greg's hips to grind their crotches together. Greg was quick to realise that dancing to Fall Out Boy was absolutely fine as long as Mycroft was touching him.

The chorus started and Mycroft sang along, while Greg hooked his arms around his boyfriend's neck. He grinned as they bobbed their heads together, eyes locked, and bodies continuing to press roughly against each other.

'We only want to sing you to sleep,' Mycroft sang along and Greg laughed.

'You are _so_ gay,' he stated.

'Shut it,' Mycroft hummed. Suddenly the singer faded off and it was just the guitars and drums. Mycroft pressed his face into Greg's neck and started grazing his lips gently along the soft skin.

Greg's entire body shivered in pleasure and he tilted his head to give Mycroft better access. Mycroft nibbled on Greg's neck and soothed the small pink marks with his tongue. When he pulled back after a minute Greg whined.

'Why'd you stop?' he pouted.

Mycroft just smiled and pulled Greg closer to his body.

They stood swaying together until the song ended. The next one again wasn't a song Greg was familiar with. Mycroft tugged Greg that much closer and bent to whisper in his ear, 'Dance Inside by The All-American Rejects.'

'I don't know it,' Greg admitted.

Mycroft chuckled softly, his breath blowing across Greg's ear. Greg swallowed and tried hard not to rub his trapped erection against Mycroft's thigh.

'It's about sex,' the genius stated.

Greg cocked his head. 'Oh yeah?'

'Mm,' Mycroft hummed. 'Kind of makes me want to ditch the party and have you fuck me somewhere.'

Greg groaned. 'Mycroft...'

'I'll be fine, you'll be fine,' Mycroft whispered in Greg's ear, 'this moment seems so long... don't waste new, precious _tiimmee_... we'll dance inside the song...'

Greg shivered.

'What makes the one to shake you down?' Mycroft sang, breath blowing across Greg's ear, making the brunette's lust climb that much higher, 'each touch belongs to each new sound, say now you want to shake me too, move down to me, slip into you...'

'Fuck,' Greg moaned.

Mycroft was grinding against him again and Greg could feel Mycroft's hard-on. He licked his lips and breathed in and out deeply against Mycroft's face.

'You're gonna kill me,' Greg murmured.

Mycroft chuckled. 'That's the plan,' he whispered and kissed Greg's ear.

'Fuck, stop that,' Greg ordered.

'Never,' his boyfriend hummed. 'I'll be fine, you'll be fine, this moment seems so long... don't waste new, precious _tiimmee_... we'll dance inside the song...'

He thrust his crotch against Greg's and the brunette moaned. He wrapped his arms tightly around Mycroft's neck and tried to control his lust, but it was impossible with the way Mycroft was touching him; the genius' fingers were digging hard into his hips, his crotch was pressed tight against Greg's, and his breathing was ragged against Greg's ear, each inhale and exhale making Greg's skin boil.

'What makes the one to shake you down? Each touch-' Mycroft's fingers ghosted down Greg's side, making Greg's entire body burn, '-belongs to each new sound...' he moaned loudly in Greg's ear and the taller teen's fingers dug into Mycroft's shoulders, 'say now you want to shake me too, move down to me, slip into you...'

His hands grabbed Greg's arse and crushed their bodies together, just as Greg snapped and pulled his head back. He looked into equally lust-filled blue eyes before mashing his lips to Mycroft's, devouring his boyfriend's mouth.

Mycroft moaned and opened his lips, letting Greg's tongue slide into his mouth. They tangled together and Greg quickly took over the kiss; he forced the dance into Mycroft's mouth as he took a step forward, trying to get skin on skin, trying to get _more_ despite the clothes that constricted them, despite where they were and how many people were around them.

Mycroft's left hand dropped to squeeze Greg's denim-clad hip while his right moved up Greg's side, his arm and shoulder and neck, before his long, nimble fingers carded through Greg's hair. He tugged his boyfriend's head closer and Greg moaned in response, their kiss deepening, growing even more passionate than before.

Around them the party continued, the song died out only to be replaced by another. People stopped to stare at the couple who were practically having sex in the middle of Matt Sanders' house; not that either cared. They were too wrapped up in each other, in the sexual dance they were creating with their lips and tongues, their bodies and voices.

When they finally had to break apart for air Greg inhaled sharply and Mycroft said, 'Your house, _now_.'

Greg grinned and grabbed Mycroft's hand. He tugged his boyfriend through the house and towards the front door. They stepped out into the cold night air and spotted Dimmock and Molly heading down the driveway.

'Hey,' Dimmock called. 'We were just heading home, but you two were fuckin' with your clothes on again so...'

'Yeah, seeya later,' Greg said without breaking stride. He pulled Mycroft past their friends and Mycroft waved over his shoulder.

Molly giggled as she watched Greg and Mycroft hurry down the street.

'Horny little bastards,' Dimmock snorted.

'They're in love,' Molly said. 'Leave them alone.'

Dimmock smiled as Molly unlocked her car. 'You really think they're in love?'

'Michael,' Molly tisked. 'You just have to look at the way i look at each other. It's love.'

'Mm,' Dimmock hummed. He shook his head and climbed into his girlfriend's car. He wasn't going to tease Greg about this. Not if his best friend had finally found someone to love.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg and Mycroft practically fell through the front door kissing and groping each other. They broke apart when someone in the sitting room cleared their throat and turned.

'Mum,' Greg gasped, panting for air. 'I... we...'

'I don't need to know,' Maggie smiled. 'So you're home early.'

'Er... yeah,' Greg said. 'We... uh...'

Maggie waved a dismissive hand and turned back to the TV. 'I'll be taking a sleeping pill and heading to bed...' she glanced at her watch, 'now.' She stood and turned the TV off. 'Have a nice night, boys,' she smiled before heading down the hallway.

Greg and Mycroft stood in the hallway, the door still open behind them and letting cold air in. Finally Greg cleared his throat and shut the door.

'Why does your mother always catch us?' Mycroft demanded.

'Criminal mastermind, remember?' Greg said. He grabbed Mycroft's hand and tugged him down the hallway.

'Gregory,' Mycroft hissed.

'What?'

'We can't, your mother's awake,' Mycroft said.

'You heard her,' Greg said when they reached his bedroom. He shut the door and turned to his partner. 'She's taking a sleeping pill; it'll knock her out until tomorrow morning. So...'

Mycroft stared at him long and hard before grabbing Greg by the jacket and sealing their lips back together.

They both groaned as they backed towards the bed; Greg biting at Mycroft's lips, Mycroft sucking Greg's tongue into his mouth. The back of Greg's knees hit the mattress and he fell, letting out a breath of air as he landed on his back.

Mycroft smirked down at him and Greg pushed his feet against Mycroft's legs. Mycroft rolled his eyes and Greg snickered. The genius grabbed Greg's laces and quickly undid them, letting each shoe fall to the floor with a thunk. He pulled his own off while Greg sat up and shouldered out of his jacket.

He threw it across the room and Mycroft's blazer joined it before the red-head was straddling his boyfriend's lap. Their lips met again and their hunger for each other flared back up.

Greg groaned as he licked his way into Mycroft's mouth. He grabbed the back of Mycroft's head to keep him in place, his other hand going to Mycroft's hip. The genius started grinding against him and both moaned against each other.

Greg broke the kiss and gasped, 'Get naked, now, please.' He was tugging at Mycroft's shirt as he said it.

Mycroft ripped his tie off and Greg started on his own. There was a lot of fumbling and swearing before the two got naked. When they did Mycroft threw Greg onto the bed and groped for the lube in the bedside table.

'Jesus Christ,' Greg moaned. He rubbed his hands up and down Mycroft's thighs.

Mycroft smiled down at him and popped the cap. He squeezed gel onto his fingers and dropped the bottle before reaching behind himself.

' _Jesus Christ_ ,' Greg repeated, though this time there was a deep tremor of lust laced through his voice. He watched as Mycroft sat up slightly on his knees. The taller boy moaned as he circled his entrance with one finger before pushing in slightly. 'Tell me,' Greg said in a hoarse voice, 'tell me what you're doing.'

'T-Touching my... h-hole,' Mycroft moaned. 'Pushing in...' He inhaled sharply when his finger was swallowed to the second knuckle. His muscles were still relaxed from the sex marathon he and Greg had partaken in earlier that day, so it was easy to slip first one, and then two fingers into himself.

'Fuck, you're hot,' Greg said. He rubbed Mycroft's thighs again, feeling the muscles tense beneath his palms. 'Come on, fuck yourself on your fingers.'

Mycroft could do nothing but comply. He lifted himself off his digits, feeling his muscles drag along them, before forcing himself back down. He moaned as he was penetrated, as his body quickly accepted the intrusion.

Two fingers weren’t nearly enough though, and after bouncing on them for a good minute he added another. All the while he told Greg what he was doing, his voice shaking as his body was overloaded with pleasure.

Greg reached behind his partner and grasped his hand. 'Come on,' he ordered again. He thrust Mycroft's hand up and pushed down on his hip. Mycroft let out a harsh groan as his fingers were forced deeper into himself. 'That's it,' Greg praised, 'come on, Myc, you're doing so well.'

Mycroft was beyond controlling himself now and rode his fingers with abandon. He felt sweat building up on his body despite the cold night and beneath him Greg was heating up too.

Greg bit his lip hard. Watching Mycroft get pleasure from his own fingers was astronomically hot. His teeth dug in hard to his swollen lower lip and his cock ached beneath Mycroft. His shaft was sliding up and down Mycroft's cheeks, practically trying to seek out Mycroft's hole.

Finally Greg had enough and grabbed the lube again.

'Let me,' Mycroft said and took the tube from him. He twisted around on Greg's lap and pulled his fingers from himself. He squeezed a large dollop of cool gel onto his hand before grabbing Greg's cock to slick him up.

'Holy fuck!' Greg shouted.

'Shh!' Mycroft hissed.

'Well fuckin'... easy...' Greg moaned as his prick was rubbed and squeezed.

Mycroft placed the bottle of lube on the bedside table and his hands went either side of Greg's head. 'Ready?'

'Fuck yes,' Greg replied.

Mycroft chuckled and felt Greg steady him with one hand on his hip. He breathed in and out deeply as he felt the crown of Greg's cock press against his opening.

Slowly, achingly slowly, Greg pushed in, his dick swallowed by Mycroft's body. Both boys let out breathy moans from deep within their chests as Mycroft pushed himself back until Greg bottomed out.

Cheeks resting against Greg, Mycroft shifted a bit, feeling Greg deep inside him, filling him wonderfully. 'God, you feel amazing,' he admitted.

'Uh-huh,' Greg nodded. He held both of Mycroft's hips and said, 'You gonna ride me, or...?'

Mycroft smiled sinfully and bent down to kiss Greg slowly but thoroughly. When he broke away he lifted his lower half off Greg before going back down.

They both moaned again as Mycroft set a steady rhythm. He used his hands and knees to lift himself up and down; Greg's hands were firm, his fingers digging into Mycroft's hips hard enough to leave crescent-moon shaped indents; the two panted heavily, keeping eye contact as they had sex.

Greg lifted his head but couldn't move far enough, and Mycroft leaned down to close the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, sweet kiss that made Greg's toes curl and Mycroft's breath catch in the back of his throat.

It made Mycroft speed up his movements until he was leaning back and moaning. Greg shifted beneath him, holding his partner until both feet were planted on the mattress. He thrust up as best he could, groaning when his cock was squeezed by Mycroft's inner-muscles.

Nobody had ever felt as wonderful, as _hot_ , as Mycroft Holmes, and Greg never wanted to stop. He wanted to be inside Mycroft forever, bringing him the same kind of pleasure Greg himself felt.

'God, you're beautiful,' Greg couldn't help but say. He let go of Mycroft to stroke his chest, grazing a nipple, and Mycroft let out a throaty moan. 'Fuck, so beautiful,' he moaned.

'Harder,' Mycroft begged. 'Please, Greg, I n-need more.'

'Shh, come here,' Greg said. He wrapped his hand around the back of Mycroft's neck and tugged him down for another kiss. As they explored each other's mouths Greg's other arm came around Mycroft's lower back. He used his body to roll them both until Mycroft was pressed against the mattress.

Mycroft wrapped his legs around Greg's waist and rolled his hips. 'More,' he begged again.

Greg pulled back and leaned on one forearm as he started pounding harder into Mycroft. He grasped Mycroft's cock with his free hand and tried to pull in time with his thrusts, but he was fast losing control of his body. Mycroft felt too good, he _looked_ too good; lying there, beneath Greg, staring up at him with lust-darkened eyes, his pale face flushed and sweat trickling down his forehead.

'Oh God,' Mycroft moaned and let his head drop.

He moved faster, his hips jolting and the bed creaking beneath them. The headboard started thudding into the wall in time with their movements and Mycroft thrust his head back into the pillows.

'Greg,' he moaned, 'yes, right there!' He cried out when Greg's cock hit his prostate. 'Fuck, right there... yes! Jesus... oh God...'

Mycroft rambled incoherently as Greg's movements sped up, became less coordinated. He pulled back to grab Mycroft's hips and dragged him across the mattress. Mycroft's hand immediately went to his cock and his thumb pushed through the steady pre-come dribbling from the slit.

His hand moved faster and faster as Greg panted above him. 'Come for me, love,' Greg said. 'Come on, I wanna see you break down.'

'Fuck,' Mycroft moaned.

'God, I'm so close,' Greg said. He felt the familiar tingle spread up from his spine, felt the fire in his belly morph and engulf him. 'Oh fuck, Mycroft.'

'Greg!' Mycroft shouted as he climaxed. Thick ropes of come splattered across his stomach and he continued to pull on his dick even as his muscles clenched down, becoming impossibly tight.

Greg thrust once more before he spilled into Mycroft. He grunted and groaned and his hips bumped against Mycroft's arse as his dick throbbed inside his partner. Greg eventually went still, bent over Mycroft, the two panting heavily as they gave in to the pleasure spreading through their bodies.

Soon Greg got control of himself and carefully pulled out. Mycroft moaned and his legs flopped onto the bed. 'God,' he groaned.

Greg chuckled and climbed over his boyfriend to grab tissues from his bedside table. After cleaning them up and tossing the tissues into his bin, the two climbed under the blankets. Greg held his arms out and Mycroft snuggled into him.

There was silence as they slowly came down and molded their bodies together. Soon sleep snuck on them and Mycroft murmured, 'Night.'

'Night, Mycroft,' Greg replied

Mycroft snuggled further into Greg's chest and quickly fell asleep. Greg reached out and threaded his fingers through Mycroft's sweaty auburn hair, smiling stupidly when Mycroft murmured in his sleep and shifted closer. He settled down and continued to look at Mycroft.

His earlier thoughts came back to him; his conversation with Doctor Phil, what he was feeling, how he'd defended Mycroft and their relationship against Dylan's hateful words.

He breathed in heavily and leaned forward to kiss Mycroft's forehead. 'I think I'm in love with you,' he whispered.

Mycroft didn't wake, and soon Greg's eyes slid shut and he dropped off to sleep too.


	56. The Great Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** The Great Escape by Boys Like Girls
> 
> **Author's Note:** Sorry about the wait, it's just been really hot here. It reached 47 where I live, a new record! Anywho, enjoy the chapter :]
> 
> {Dreamer}

Greg woke slowly to a warmth enveloping him, soft breath blowing over his forehead, and nimble fingers carding through his hair. A smile slowly spread across his face as Greg remembered the night before and he snuggled deeper into his boyfriend.

He heard a chuckle above him and groaned. 'Shuddup.'

'That's not nice.'

Greg groaned again and pressed his face harder against... Mycroft's chest? He peeled his eyes open and realised he and Mycroft had swapped positions during the night; Mycroft had an arm around his shoulders, fingers threading through Greg's hair, and Greg had his head on Mycroft's chest, one arm thrown over his waist.

Greg hummed and pressed a soft kiss to Mycroft's chest.

'Stop that.'

'Why?' Greg asked.

'Because we'll never get up if you continue to do that,' Mycroft said from above him.

Smiling, Greg slid his hand lower, fingertips brushing through the soft ginger hairs that went from Mycroft's bellybutton down to his-

'Gregory!'

Greg chuckled and lifted his head to look up at Mycroft. The genius was scowling at him but there was desire in his eyes. Greg smirked and squeezed Mycroft's morning erection. 'What?'

'Breakfast,' Mycroft stated. 'It's already ten.'

'So...?'

'I'm hungry,' Mycroft said and wiggled. 'And sore.'

'I don't have to fuck you,' Greg said and squeezed again.

'Gregory...' Mycroft warned while pushing Greg's hand away.

'Fine, fine,' Greg sighed and let Mycroft's cock go. 'Ruin my morning fun.'

Mycroft chuckled and sat up. Greg did too and their lips met for a gentle morning kiss that made Greg grin goofily. 'Good morning.'

'Morning,' Greg replied before kissing his boyfriend again. 'Sleep well?'

'Very well,' Mycroft nodded. 'And you?'

'Mm, I love sleeping with you wrapped in my arms,' Greg grinned. 'Or me wrapped in your arms,' he added.

Mycroft smiled. 'Yes, we seem to have swapped during the night.'

'As long as you're in bed with me, I don't care,' Greg shrugged.

'I just realised something,' Mycroft said.

'Mm?' Greg hummed and turned to look at him.

'Your last name's Lestrade.'

The brunette raised an eyebrow. 'You sure you're a genius?' Mycroft thumped him in the shoulder and Greg snickered.

'I meant that you have your mother's last name,' Mycroft elaborated.

'Well, yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Mum changed my last name when me old man ran off.'

'So your birth name isn't Gregory Lestrade?' Mycroft asked.

'Nope,' Greg shook his head. 'Dad named me Gregory Anthony Temple Jr after his own dad.' Greg wrinkled his nose. 'He was always callin' me _Junior_.' Mycroft chuckled. 'When he took off she changed my name to Gregory Johnathan Lestrade; her last name, obviously, and her dad's name as my middle name. Complete with a H.'

'I see,' Mycroft mused.

'I like the name Anthony, it was my grandad's name on my dad's side,' Greg said, 'but mum had no say in my name, Dad just told her to shut it. So I was all for the name change.'

'I can understand that,' Mycroft said. 'My father's middle name is Mycroft.'

'Yeah?'

Mycroft nodded. 'Siger Mycroft Holmes III.'

'The _third_?' Greg giggled. 'What a snob.'

'Mm, well we all know _that_ ,' Mycroft smiled. 'His father's name was Siger Sherlock Holmes IV.'

'God,' Greg grinned. 'So where'd your middle name come from?'

'My great-grandfather,' Mycroft said. 'Edwin Siger Holmes II.'

'And Sherlock's?' Greg asked.

'Our great-great- _great_ grandfather; Edwin Arthur Holmes III,' Mycroft said. 'The Holmeses aren't very original. They just take names from past family members and mix them up.'

Greg giggled. 'So what will your son's name be?'

'Edwin Mycroft Sherlock Siger Arthur Holmes I,' Mycroft answered. And then he added a sarcastic, 'Obviously.'

The two laughed together until they were lying in bed again, Greg's head on Mycroft's chest. It seemed Mycroft had forgotten about getting up.

Suddenly Mycroft asked, 'If you ever have a son, what would you name him?'

'Anthony,' Greg said.

'Really?'

The older boy nodded. 'He was my dad's dad and an alright bloke. He told my dad to get his shit together when he was treating me and Mum like crap. He died about three years after Dad took off. I was seven.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' Mycroft said.

Greg shrugged. 'I miss him, yeah, but... it's just been me and Mum for so long, even before Dad left.' Mycroft nodded. 'But yeah, I like the name Anthony... I'd call him Tony.'

'I like Tony,' Mycroft admitted.

'Tony Gregory Lestrade,' Greg beamed.

Mycroft smiled.

'No, wait,' Greg suddenly said. 'Anthony Gregory _Holmes_.'

Mycroft sat up quickly and looked down at his boyfriend. 'Are you serious?'

Greg blushed and averted his eyes. 'Um...'

'You think about us having children?' Mycroft asked.

'Well...' Greg hesitated before he steeled himself. He gulped thickly and nodded.

Mycroft stared at him.

'Just... just a thought, ya know?' Greg said softly. 'I don't ever wanna break up with you so... yeah, I think about the future.'

Mycroft blinked before asking, 'What do you think about?'

He settled back down, his head on Greg's arm, and the brunette said, 'Well... we'd live in London, in a big expensive house so you can entertain the Queen and the PM.' Mycroft smiled. 'Close enough to Scotland Yard and to wherever your office is,' Greg continued. 'Some place with a big back yard so our kid can run experiments and be all... you know, Holmesian.'

Mycroft chuckled.

'We'd take him to football or cricket practice,' Greg said softly, 'in our big, _safe_ car, 'cause you'd never cart our baby around in your Jag.'

'Never,' Mycroft agreed.

'We'd have a big kitchen so I can cook, and we can have our mates over,' Greg smiled.

'A big sitting room so we can watch movies together,' Mycroft added.

Greg said, 'And a library to store all your books.'

Mycroft smiled. 'That sounds nice.'

'Oh, and a music room,' Greg added.

Mycroft lifted his head. 'Really?'

His boyfriend nodded. 'That way you can have your guitars and stuff... you can teach me and little Tony how to play.' Mycroft smiled. 'And we'd have spare rooms so Sherlock and John can stay over.'

'Of course,' Mycroft agreed and lay back down. There was a pause before he said, 'I like that future.'

'Yeah, me too,' Greg nodded.

'Can we have that?'

'You can have whatever you want,' Greg answered.

Mycroft smiled and kissed Greg's chest before saying, 'Come on, I'm hungry.'

Greg groaned but sat up and yawned, letting the blankets pool around his waist as he twisted his body to work out the kinks. He let out a long, low groan and rubbed his eyes. 'Mm, I love sleep.'

Mycroft just smiled and climbed out of bed. 'Um... do you have any pyjama bottoms I can borrow?' the red-head asked after grabbing and searching through the bag he'd brought. 'I have boxers but I don't want to walk around your house in them.'

'Why not?' Greg asked. Mycroft blushed and Greg snickered.

'Shut up,' Mycroft huffed.

Greg laughed again but got out of bed. 'Yeah, I got some,' he smiled and kissed his partner. 'Want a shirt, too?'

'Please,' Mycroft nodded. 'I've only got the one I'm wearing today and the one I wore last night.'

'Why didn't you pack pyjamas?' Greg asked as he went through his drawers.

'I didn't think we'd be sleeping fully clothed,' Mycroft said and took the striped pyjama bottoms Greg handed him. 'And I was right.'

Greg smiled and grabbed a long-sleeved shirt that was striped two different shades of blue. He tossed that to Mycroft before grabbing a grey long-sleeved shirt for himself and another pair of pyjama bottoms, these ones with Homer Simpson printed across them.

After they got dressed Greg went to the door, Mycroft trailing behind him. Before opening his door Greg turned and pulled Mycroft in for another kiss.

'That colour brings out your eyes,' Greg admitted when they broke apart, looking at Mycroft's shirt. Mycroft blushed but looked pleased with Greg's words. Greg smiled again and led Mycroft from the bedroom.

Maggie was sitting on the sofa and waved to them as they headed into the kitchen. Mycroft stood in the doorway while Greg grabbed the bread.

'So, what would you like?' Greg asked. 'Toast? Cereal? Something else...?'

'Toast is fine,' Mycroft said.

'We have jam and butter and stuff like that,' Greg said as he opened the fridge.

Mycroft walked up behind him and peered into the fridge. 'Can I have cheese and tomato?' he asked.

'Sure can,' Greg said and kissed his cheek. Mycroft smiled as Greg grabbed the cheese slices and a tomato from the vegetable drawer. Greg hummed to himself while he made their breakfast and Mycroft watched with a smile.

Soon enough Greg had made them two toasted sandwiches each; cheese and tomato for Mycroft, and cheese and pickles for himself. Mycroft raised an eyebrow when he watched Greg slice a large pickle.

'What?' Greg said. 'I like pickles.'

'I didn't say anything,' Mycroft shrugged.

'But it's odd,' Greg smiled, 'I know. People always stare at me weird when I eat entire pickles.' As if to prove his point, he grabbed a smaller one from the jar and shoved it into his mouth.

Mycroft swallowed thickly as he watched the pickle disappear between his boyfriend's plump lips. _Maybe I should have taken the morning sex,_ he thought.

Greg grinned and winked before munching on his pickle and turning back to their breakfast. He poured them both a glass of orange juice and the two sat down with their plates.

Maggie entered the kitchen with her own empty plate and raised her eyebrows when she saw them. 'What, not going to watch telly with me?' she asked.

'Um... didn't wanna disturb you?' Greg tried while blushing.

Maggie chuckled. 'Right,' she nodded and went to the sink. 'It doesn't have anything to do with me catching you two last night?'

'Er... no, absolutely not,' Greg shook his head.

'Mm-hmm.'

'Serious.'

'Right.'

'Mum-'

'I agree with you,' Maggie said and threw her hands up.

'Do not,' Greg huffed.

His mother just smiled and looked at Mycroft. 'And how are you this morning, Mycroft?'

'I'm fine, thank you,' the red-head replied. 'Thank you for letting me stay.'

'Not a problem,' Maggie said. She went back into the sitting room, ruffling Greg's hair as she passed. Greg pouted and patted his hair down while Mycroft chuckled.

'What?' Greg said.

'You, smoothing your hair down?' Mycroft smirked. 'It's always messy.'

'Is not,' Greg pouted, 'it's... artfully all over the place.'

Mycroft had to put a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggles and Greg winked at him. Mycroft shook his head and went back to his breakfast.

They ate in silence, both comfortable not saying anything, just enjoying each other's company. After clearing away their plates, Greg leaned against the kitchen table and looked at his boyfriend.

'Mycroft, what are you doing today?'

Mycroft looked up at him. 'Spending time with you?' he tried.

Greg grinned. 'Exactly.' When Mycroft raised an eyebrow, Greg said, 'We haven't gone out on a proper date.'

'I thought all that time we spent together _were_ dates,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah, but... fuck it, just go out on a date with me,' Greg huffed.

Mycroft smiled and leaned forward. 'Where are we going?'

Greg raised both eyebrows. 'Is that a yes?'

'Where are we going?' Mycroft repeated.

'Is that a yes?' Greg countered.

With a smile, Mycroft nodded and said, 'Yes.'

'Brilliant.'

'So where are we going?' Mycroft asked again.

Greg laughed and sat opposite his partner. 'Um... I was thinking we could go for a ride, have a picnic somewhere, maybe catch a movie, then dinner.'

'Huh.'

'What?' Greg asked.

'You've really thought this out,' Mycroft said.

'Well... yeah,' Greg nodded. 'It'll be our first official date; gotta plan it out.'

Mycroft smiled and nodded. 'That sounds nice.'

'Yeah?'

'Yes,' Mycroft said. 'I like the idea of a picnic and a ride on your bike.'

'Awesome,' Greg said. 'Well, I better pack some food, 'kay?' He jumped to his feet and kissed Mycroft before running from the kitchen. Mycroft smiled as he watched him go before turning back to the table.

'A date, huh?'

Mycroft jumped and looked up to see Maggie leaning against the doorframe. She was smiling and it made a blush colour Mycroft's cheeks.

'Relax, Mycroft,' Maggie chuckled.

'I can't help it,' Mycroft murmured.

Maggie smiled at him and went to the fridge. 'So, a lovely date,' she mused. 'My son is full of surprises.'

'Yes, he is,' Mycroft agreed with a nod.

'I hope you know how happy I am that Greg found you,' Maggie said. Mycroft looked at her. 'He was losing it a bit there; just drifting, not taking anything seriously.' She pulled back from the fridge with a bottle of chocolate milk. 'He's a smart boy, but he never applied himself... until you two started dating.'

She closed the fridge and turned to look at Mycroft.

'His grades have improved, he always does his homework, and I've only been called to the school once in the past three months.'

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft said immediately, remembering Greg fighting Dylan over him.

'It's not your fault, Mycroft,' Maggie said. 'You've done wonderful things for my son. He's studying harder; he plans to go to college or university.' She smiled. 'Thank you for that.'

'I didn't do anything,' Mycroft said.

'You believe in him, and you're always there for him,' Maggie said. 'That's a lot, Mycroft.'

Mycroft smiled slightly at her.

'I'm glad he has you,' Maggie continued. 'And remember that you're always welcome here, no matter what. So don't go blushing whenever I catch you two together.'

Mycroft looked down and tried hard to fight the colour trying to rise to his cheeks. 'Thank you,' he murmured.

Maggie walked past and squeezed his shoulder. 'You're family,' she said before disappearing back into the sitting room, leaving Mycroft sitting at the table thinking about her words.

 

{oOo}

 

'Do you know what we should do sometime?' Mycroft asked suddenly. He and Greg were changing- Mycroft into dark blue jeans and a black button-up shirt, Greg into black jeans and a band shirt- and Greg had already packed his school bag full of food Mycroft wasn't allowed to look at.

Greg looked up from where he was tugging his Chucks on. 'What?'

'We should go to the city,' Mycroft said, 'and spend the entire day there. We can ride the tube straight there and get breakfast on the way.'

'What would we do?' Greg asked.

Mycroft shrugged as he played with his hair, looking at himself in Greg's mirror. 'We could just look around, go window-shopping or Christmas shopping.' He paused before saying, 'We could have a look at New Scotland Yard.'

Greg grinned at that and said, 'Yeah?'

'You want to be a police officer,' Mycroft said and turned back to his boyfriend, 'and work at Scotland Yard so... we should go have a look.'

Greg smiled. 'That sounds awesome,' he said. 'We could get lunch and wander around and just... hang out.'

'Exactly,' Mycroft smiled.

'And when would we be doing this?' Greg asked.

Mycroft tilted his head as he thought. 'Perhaps next weekend? Or just before the holidays? I have a few business meetings coming up soon and I usually stay in a hotel. You could come with me.'

'That sounds awesome.' Greg stood and kissed his boyfriend's cheek. 'You're beautiful, you know that?'

'Only when I'm with you,' Mycroft replied.

Greg chuckled. 'Just take the compliment, you bastard.'

'Yes, sir.'

Greg slapped Mycroft's arse and grabbed his bag. 'Come on, gorgeous.'

'Yes, sir,' Mycroft repeated. Greg shook his head as they left his room.

 

{oOo}

 

**Are you coming home today? - S**

 

Mycroft sighed as he read the text. 'What is it?' Greg asked.

'Just a text from Sherlock,' Mycroft and said his helmet on the bike. He quickly typed out a response.

 

_I'm spending the day with Gregory. Behave - M_

 

Sherlock's own response was quick.

 

**But John and I need to go shopping. You have to take us - S**

 

Mycroft frowned.

 

_Why me? - M_

 

**Because I said so - S**

 

Greg caught the last text as he walked around his bike and chuckled. 'Not subtle about what he wants, is he?' he asked.

'No, Sherlock definitely isn't subtle,' Mycroft smiled.

 

_Well too bad. Ask Mrs Hudson or Mr Andrew to take you - M_

 

**I'm not talking to them - S**

 

Mycroft looked up and saw Greg strapping down a blanket to the end of the bike seat. He had to smile; Gregory had thought of everything.

 

_Why? - M_

 

**They did things - S**

 

Mycroft laughed and showed Greg his BlackBerry.

'Is he talking about straight old people sex?' Greg asked with a wrinkled nose.

'I believe so, yes,' Mycroft chuckled.

'Disgusting,' Greg said and straddled his bike.

 

_There's nothing I can do. I'm spending the day with Gregory. You and John find something to occupy yourselves with or ask Mrs Hudson to drive you - M_

 

**I hate you - S**

 

_I love you too. Kisses - M_

 

There was no response after that and Mycroft smiled as he slid his mobile into the thick jacket Greg had lent him. He shouldered Greg's bag before climbing onto the bike behind his boyfriend.


	57. First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** First Date by Blink-182

It was about eleven thirty when they left and Mycroft had no idea where they were going. He wasn't complaining, though. Greg was an excellent rider and knew his way around the main roads and back roads. Soon they'd left the suburban houses behind and passed big lots with concrete and steel factories, trucks passing them and honking their horns.

When they left the industrial area they zipped along thin, winding country roads that took them past paddocks with large estates and small farm houses. Greg pointed out the odd landmark and when they pulled up on the side of the road for a bathroom break, Mycroft found a camera in Greg's backpack that Maggie must have slipped in.

It made them both laugh and they spent twenty minutes taking pictures of each other and stupid things like a rock Greg claimed looked like a dog, as well as sticks, insects, and even a duck.

They rode for another hour enjoying the unseasonably warm afternoon before pulling up outside a small road-side diner.

'I thought we were having a picnic?' Mycroft asked after climbing off the back of the bike.

'We are,' Greg said. 'There's a small park a few minutes walk from here. It's mostly empty because there's so much free space around here.'

Mycroft nodded and Greg took the bag from him, shouldering it on while Mycroft grabbed the blanket.

They set off together, heading down the road for a few metres before Greg led Mycroft towards the wooden fence to their right. After climbing over the fence and walking through the trees, the two came out into a small, grassy clearing.

There was a swingset, a plastic slide attached to a bridge, a climbing wall, and covered areas to their right, while to their left were four wooden tables sitting atop a concrete area beneath a wooden covering. A white concrete path circled the entire area and there were drinking fountains either side.

'This is lovely,' Mycroft said as he looked around. The sun was out, thick grey clouds ghosting over the sky, and Mycroft breathed in deeply. It was oddly warm for early December but the air was cold, and you could practically smell the snow.

'I found it a few months ago,' Greg admitted. 'I needed some space after fighting with Mum and just rode around for hours. Eventually I found this.'

Mycroft nodded. 'It's good to have a spot where you can collect your thoughts.'

'And there are swings!' Greg shouted. He dropped his bag at Mycroft's feet and took off, arms flapping through the air and laughter escaping his lips.

Mycroft chuckled as he watched Greg fling himself into a swing and start pushing off the grass. He grabbed Greg's bag and walked towards his boyfriend at a sedate pace. Greg grinned when Mycroft reached him.

'Come on, there's another swing.'

'I'm fine,' Mycroft said and dug around for his cigarettes.

'You sure?'

Mycroft nodded as he blew smoke above his head. 'I'll play with you after we eat.'

Greg pouted and stopped swinging. Instead he pushed his shoes into the grass and swayed forward and back, forward and back, giving Mycroft his best puppy dog eyes.

'Gregory, I'll play after we eat,' Mycroft repeated.

'Why not now?' Greg groaned.

'Gregory,' Mycroft repeated and gave him a stern look.

'You're no fun.'

'I can be a lot of fun,' Mycroft said and gave Greg a sinful look.

Greg groaned and let his head drop before pushing off the swing. 'Look at you, using your wiles to get me to eat.'

'I'm good like that,' Mycroft said and headed towards the tables on the other side of the park. It was only a few seconds before he heard Greg jogging after him and smiled when his partner fell into step beside him.

They stopped just before the concrete area and Mycroft unfolded the blanket and spread it out. Greg plopped onto the plaid material and unzipped his bag. Soon he had a spread of sandwiches, crackers, chocolate, and dips spread out. Mycroft smiled as he sat beside his boyfriend and accepted a can of coke, still cold from the ice-packs Greg had stuffed into the bottom of his bag.

'You sure know how to wine and dine your partner,' Mycroft smiled.

Greg chuckled and they both opened their drinks. 'To our first date,' Greg said and held his can out.

Mycroft smiled and toasted his boyfriend. 'To our first date,' he agreed. He sipped his coke before saying, 'This is lovely, Gregory, thank you.'

'Yeah?' Greg asked.

'Absolutely,' Mycroft inclined his head. He leaned back and looked out across the park. 'It's nice and relaxing here.'

'You could probably relax at home,' Greg said. 'You've got a big enough backyard.'

Mycroft laughed. 'My home isn't very relaxing,' he said.

Greg looked at him as he thought about Siger and Meghan Holmes. 'Yeah,' he mused, 'I guess not.'

They fell into silence as they ate; Mycroft munching on a cheese and tomato sandwich, while Greg alternated between snacking on chocolate digestives and the dips he'd brought. Mycroft smiled as he watched Greg shove a cracker into his mouth, followed by a sip of coke, and then an entire chocolate biscuit. When Greg realised he was being watched he looked up.

'Wha?'

Mycroft chuckled and shook his head. 'Nothing.'

Greg swallowed his mouthful. 'You sure?' he asked.

'Just... thinking about how lucky I am,' Mycroft said and leaned over to kiss Greg softly.

Greg grinned. 'I'm the lucky one, Myc.'

Mycroft watched as Greg went back to trying to eat his body weight in food. _No,_ he thought, _I'm_ definitely _the lucky one._

 

{oOo}

 

Greg had looked up movie times on his smartphone and they'd agreed to see an action flick at five. It was just after one when Greg finally finished off all the food- though he left a few biscuits for Mycroft.

The couple settled down on the blanket to enjoy the afternoon sun. Mycroft had his jacket stuffed under his head and Greg's head was resting against his chest, Mycroft's arm wrapped around him.

After about twenty minutes of lying in silence, Greg humming under his breath and tapping at Mycroft's chest, Mycroft asked, 'What are you doing for Christmas?'

'Christmas?' Greg echoed.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'It's just over two weeks away.'

'I know,' Greg said. 'Um... I'm probably doing what I always do.'

'And that is...?'

'Spend the day with Mum,' Greg shrugged. 'Sometimes Dimmock comes over, or we go hang out somewhere and have a drink. Dimmock's dad always goes to church in the morning, at midday, and at six or seven. Dimmock doesn't so he's allowed to hang out with me.' Greg smiled slightly. 'And his dad gives him a lecture when he gets home about homosexuals burning in the fires of Hell.'

Mycroft let out a snort of laughter. 'We're going to Hell, are we?'

'Oh yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Been a fun ride, though.'

'Well at least we know what to expect,' Mycroft drawled. 'I'd hate to die and be surprised.'

Greg laughed and snuggled into his boyfriend's side. He wet his lips before saying, 'You don't believe in God?'

'I'm an atheist,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah, I remember you sayin' that,' Greg nodded.

'What about you?'

'I... I'd like to think there's something else out there, after this,' Greg said. 'But I don't believe in some higher power that gives a toss about what I do in everyday life.'

Mycroft hummed.

'And I can't believe in a God that hates me 'cause I like blokes,' Greg added.

'The catholic God doesn't necessarily believe that,' Mycroft said. 'It's the followers who have taken human teachings and warped them to fit their views. The catholic God supposedly loves all his children, regardless of age, race, or sexuality.'

'I know not all religious people believe that gay people are evil,' Greg nodded. 'I just hate that some of them choose to hate us 'cause of what their supposed almighty god wants.'

'Humans can be evil, Gregory,' Mycroft said. 'It's humans who choose to believe what they want.'

'It sucks,' Greg sighed. 'I just wish everyone could fuck off and let us live the way we want.'

'Well, the world's taking steps forward,' Mycroft said. 'We can get married in a number of places.'

'Yeah,' Greg chuckled. 'We could elope to America, or another country that has same-sex marriages.'

Mycroft smiled. 'A lovely, short wedding in Washington.'

'Imagine what my mum'd do if we took off and got married without tellin' her?' Greg laughed.

'Oh, she'd definitely kill us,' Mycroft said.

'So I'd better not propose to you anytime soon,' Greg said.

Mycroft shifted on the blanket to look down at his boyfriend.

'What?' Greg said when Mycroft remained silent.

'What makes you think...' Mycroft said slowly and tapped at Greg's jaw, 'that I'd let _you_ propose to _me_?'

Greg pushed up from Mycroft's chest and looked down at him. 'Oh, so _you_ are gonna propose to _me_?'

'Maybe,' Mycroft said. 'I have more money, after all. I could buy a nice ring.'

'Ooh, will it have a big pretty diamond?' Greg asked and batted his eyelashes.

Mycroft chuckled. 'Only the best for my fiancé.'

'Hmm, I reckon you're just tryin' to get into my trousers,' Greg grinned.

'Do I really need to buy you a pretty diamond ring to do that?' Mycroft asked.

Greg tilted his head before a sinful smile spread across his face. 'Nope,' he said and ducked down to capture Mycroft's lips in a sweet, gentle kiss.

Mycroft moaned and threaded his fingers through Greg's hair to keep him in place. Greg was stroking Mycroft's stomach and chest with his hand, but soon that wasn't enough. He hoisted himself off the blanket and straddled Mycroft's lap.

Mycroft groaned against Greg's lips as their crotches pressed together and he rolled his hips. He felt Greg's trapped erection grind against his own and moaned again.

Greg tore his mouth away from Mycroft's to kiss and lick across Mycroft's jaw. He stopped briefly to chew and tug on his earlobe before moving further down. Mycroft twisted his head to give Greg more access and hissed in pleasure when Greg found one of his spots.

Teeth dug into his soft flesh, followed by a warm, wet tongue soothing over the bite mark gently. Greg did it again and again until Mycroft was sure he had a dozen hickeys. But he couldn't bring himself to care, not when Greg was sitting atop him, rutting against him, his tongue, teeth and lips all doing delicious things to his neck.

When he moaned loudly Greg pulled back and smiled down at him. 'Having fun there?'

Mycroft huffed and tugged Greg back down, once again sealing their lips together. Greg moaned as his hips were grabbed, his mouth plundered, and didn't even yelp when Mycroft rolled them so they were lying side by side.

Their legs tangled together atop the blanket as they moved back and forth, their lips melding together, their tongues dancing, their breath exchanged as each tried to taste and memorize the other's mouth.

They didn't break apart until Mycroft heard someone squealing. He pulled back panting and looked over at the playground. There were two women standing a few feet away from them, five children between them. One of the women caught sight of Greg and Mycroft and huffed.

'Gregory, we should stop,' Mycroft panted.

Greg looked over too and groaned when he saw the hoard of children. 'God damn it.'

Mycroft chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to his boyfriend's lips. He then threw an apologetic glance at the women and one scowled as she ushered her kids to the furthest side of the park.

'I suppose that's our cue to leave,' Mycroft commented.

Greg groaned. 'Bloody mothers, why can't they leave us alone?'

Mycroft chuckled and said, 'It seems all mothers are criminal masterminds.'

'Mm, I reckon they take lessons after we're born,' Greg said. He groaned again and tugged at his jeans.

'I'll take care of that later,' Mycroft said and started collecting their rubbish.

'Promise?' Greg asked.

Mycroft smiled and pecked Greg on the lips. 'I promise.'

Greg grinned. 'Awesome.' He jumped to his feet and shoved everything into his bag. 'And now, onto our next grand adventure!'

'You're a lunatic,' Mycroft chuckled as he stood too and stretched.

'And that's just one of the many reasons why you love me,' Greg grinned cheekily. Mycroft blinked at the word love and Greg suddenly realised what he'd said. 'Um... I meant... l-like,' he stuttered.

Mycroft nodded slowly.

'Serious, I, um...' Greg dragged his fingers through his hair nervously. He hadn't forgotten what he'd said to Mycroft the previous night just before he'd fallen asleep. But that didn't mean he was ready to say it to Mycroft while he was awake. And it didn't mean Mycroft felt the same way. 'I'm sorry,' Greg finally got out.

'No, it's... fine,' Mycroft said. 'I understand what you meant.'

'Right,' Greg said. 'Well, uh... we better go.' He grabbed his bag and started walking, not waiting for Mycroft. 'Stupid, stupid, _stupid_ ,' he muttered to himself as he walked. He groaned and smacked his forehead.

Mycroft trailed behind him, thinking about what Greg had said. And wondering if Greg realised that what he'd said was true.

 

{oOo}

 

They walked back to the bike in silence and shared an awkward kiss before climbing on. Greg and Mycroft both spent the ride back wondering how they were going to fix this. Mycroft wanted to tell Greg the truth; that he was pretty sure, over these past three months, he'd fallen in love with the brunette. Before it had been just a crush, really. He'd fancied Greg, had lusted after him, but he hadn't _known_ him.

Now everything was different. Mycroft and Greg had spent practically every minute together for the past fourteen weeks. Mycroft knew what music and food Greg liked, his favourite bands and clothes and TV shows. He knew how Greg felt about certain things, why he drank and smoked and had slept around. Mycroft felt like he knew Greg better than he knew himself.

And Greg knew _him_. Nobody, apart for Sherlock and Anthea, had ever known Mycroft as well as Greg did. And Greg had access to parts of Mycroft that Sherlock and Anthea didn't.

By the time they got to the shopping centre Mycroft had steeled himself. He wouldn't let Greg's slip ruin their date. So when they both climbed off Greg's bike and took their helmets off, Mycroft pulled Greg in for a thorough, passionate snog.

Greg gasped when they broke apart and blinked at his boyfriend. 'Um...'

'Forget what you said, Gregory, okay?' Mycroft said. 'We're here to enjoy ourselves. I care about you and you care about me. When we decide to say those words, we will. But only when we're ready.'

Greg stared at Mycroft for a minute longer before grinning. He pressed his lips softly against Mycroft's.

'What was that for?' Mycroft asked.

'You said _when_ ,' Greg said. 'You didn't say _if_ , Mycroft. You said _when_. Meaning we're definitely going to say those words to each other.'

Mycroft nodded. 'I'm not far off saying them, Gregory.'

Greg's grin widened. 'Yeah, me either.'

'Really?'

Greg nodded. 'Definitely,' he said.

Mycroft smiled and kissed him again. 'So back to our date?'

'Yeah, sorry,' Greg chuckled. 'Um...' he checked his phone, 'it's not even three yet, we've got over two hours until the movie. Did you wanna watch an earlier session, go window shopping, or grab something to eat?'

'I'm still full from lunch,' Mycroft said. 'How about window shopping- I haven't bought you a Christmas present yet- and we'll get dinner after the movie.'

Greg beamed. 'Gonna buy me somethin', huh?'

'Of course I am.'

Greg chuckled and looped his arm through Mycroft's. 'Well let me show you what Gregory Lestrade would like for Christmas.'

Mycroft shook his head but allowed Greg to tug him through the carpark. 'You're insane.'

'Yup,' Greg nodded. He looked at Mycroft and winked. Mycroft had to laugh.

 

{oOo}

 

The couple walked through the shopping centre together, mostly just looking through the windows, occasionally stopping to go into a shop. Greg wanted to check out every tobacconist because he liked looking at the lighters and cigarette cases, as well as the random knick knacks every tobacconist seemed to sell.

Mycroft went to every bookstore available and Greg was shocked to find there were twelve different stores that sold books or specialised in them. Mycroft wanted to buy a heap- like he always did- but they were on Greg's bike and couldn't carry the bags. So they settled for coming back next weekend, or sometime during the week.

After Mycroft bought a coffee and Greg some type of chocolate drink, they were walking down the older part of the shopping centre when Mycroft stopped.

'What?' Greg asked. He slurped down the rest of his drink and looked up.

'It's a music store,' Mycroft stated.

Greg looked further up to see a sign that read "Sieg's Music Store". 'Um... yeah, that's what the sign says,' Greg nodded.

'I didn't know this was here,' Mycroft said. He tossed his empty coffee cup out and walked into the store.

'So I guess we're going in,' Greg mused. He threw his cup out too and followed Mycroft into the store.

The store was small and filled with instruments, books, and musical equipment. On the right wall were acoustic, electric acoustic, and electric guitars. The wall to the left had music books, banjos, and other small stringed instruments Greg couldn't name. The counter was covered in small racks with music books, a plastic set of drawers with picks, and containers filled with harmonicas and other stuff.

There was only a small amount of room to move; the centre aisle had been created by the counter on one side and three pianos on the other. There were three keyboards near the door and Greg tapped at the keys, watching as they lit up red.

By the time Greg had stopped stuffing around and staring at everything he'd lost Mycroft. The store was very small, though, and it only took him a second to spot his boyfriend's auburn head in the corner. Mycroft was sitting behind a small black piano.

Greg stepped around two keyboards, made sure not to nudge the guitars hanging from the wall, and tapped at another piano as he made his way over to his partner.

'I used to play the piano,' Mycroft admitted softly without looking up.

'Yeah?' Greg asked. Mycroft nodded and Greg sat on the bench beside his boyfriend. 'Why'd you stop?' 

'I didn't want to,' Mycroft explained, 'but it annoyed my father. The house we grew up in in London didn't have a sound-proof room. My piano was on the second floor beside his office and my playing annoyed him when he was home. He made me get rid of it when we moved here.'

Mycroft sighed, running his fingers lightly over the white piano keys.

'I offered to pay to have my piano moved, and to get a room at the manor sound-proofed. Hell, I even offered to store it in the bloody stables.' He frowned. 'But he wouldn't let me.'

'I'm sorry,' Greg offered; it was the only thing he could think of to say. It was clear that Mycroft missed playing- and had loved playing. The way he was staring at the instrument, entire body relaxed yet poised at the same time. His fingers were ghosting lightly over the keys, occasionally darting to touch the smaller black ones.

Mycroft gave Greg a rueful smile. 'Sorry.'

'What for?' Greg asked.

'I zoned out a little there,' Mycroft said.

Greg chuckled. 'S'okay,' he shrugged. 'If there was room at my place I'd tell you to buy one and keep it there but-'

'There isn't,' Mycroft nodded. 'It's okay. I always planned to buy one when I go to university.'

'Yeah?'

Mycroft nodded again. 'I don't want to live in a dormitory, no matter what university I decide to attend. But I suppose the experience is necessary, so I might have to wait until I finish studying to buy one.'

Most people would be worried about even getting accepted to university. But with Mycroft's intelligence and exam marks, he'd have no trouble getting into any institute of his choosing.

Greg, on the other hand, would have to take what was offered. He'd never been stupid, but he hadn't studied nearly as hard as he could have. Although getting together with Mycroft had definitely helped his schoolwork; Greg had moved from the middle of all his classes to the top ten percent. Hell, he was even beating _Dimmock_ in all their classes, and Dimmock had always seemed just that bit smarter.

 _Maybe I'll have more options,_ Greg mused.

'Gregory?'

'Sorry,' Greg said, shaking his head. 'Um-'

'Zoned out a bit?' Mycroft interrupted.

'Yeah,' Greg chuckled. 'Um... so you gonna get your own place?'

'Probably on campus, yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'Maybe a flat or house, it depends what's on offer. I don't want to be too far from the university I attend, and I'd rather have access to public transport if there are no taxis.'

'What are you gonna study?' Greg asked, realising he had no idea what Mycroft wanted to do when they finished high school. _Shit, we graduate in a few months,_ he thought.

'Politics, economics, English literature,' Mycroft told him, 'I'm not sure yet, to be honest. I've studied a number of subjects at A-Level, but I'm not sure exactly what I'll study at university. I might to one degree first and follow it with another.'

'Don't you already have a heap of degrees?'

'Some,' Mycroft confirmed. 'But you can never have enough knowledge.'

'Mm, suppose so,' Greg nodded.

'You didn't plan on going to university before you started dating me, did you?' Mycroft asked.

'Um... not really, no,' Greg said honestly. 'When I was younger I didn't; just wanted to get a job, make some money, and party all the time.' He chuckled. 'Don't wanna do that now.'

'No?' Mycroft said.

Greg shook his head. No, so much had changed since he'd met Mycroft. He actually gave a damn about his future; he wanted to be good enough to date Mycroft, wanted to make something of himself so Mycroft and his mum could both be proud of him. Hell, he wanted to be proud of himself.

'I like parties,' Greg said. 'But I don't wanna party for the rest of my life. Living's expensive, ya know?' Mycroft inclined his head. 'I've been thinking about it and... I wanna study criminology.'

'You don't need to study to be a police officer,' Mycroft said. 'You can join as soon as you turn eighteen.'

'Yeah, I know,' Greg said, 'but having a degree can't hurt, right? And if I wanna be a good cop, and someday make it to Detective Inspector, then having a degree can only help.'

'That's a good plan,' Mycroft said.

'I just... wanna do something meaningful,' Greg admitted. 'I wanna help people, ya know?'

'That's nice, Gregory,' Mycroft smiled. He reached over and squeezed Greg's hands. 'And I promise to help you find an institute that offers the subjects you want to study.'

'Awesome,' Greg grinned. 'Hey, maybe we could go to the same university,' he said. 'We could shack up in some dorm room and have wild, passionate, _loud_ sex and annoy everyone who lives in the same building.'

Mycroft snorted loudly and had to cover his mouth when the store owner looked their way. 'You're incorrigible,' he giggled.

Greg winked and tapped at one of the piano keys, making Mycroft glance at his hands.

'Do you really see us together after we graduate?' he asked softly. He remembered their discussion earlier about "Tony Holmes" and wondered if Greg really meant everything he'd said.

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'I just got you to agree to date me, not gonna let you get away that easily.'

'What if we go to different schools?' Mycroft asked.

'I won't go to mine; I'll follow you wherever you go,' Greg stated.

'Gregory, you can't change your plans for me,' Mycroft said.

Greg looked at him. 'Mycroft, your education is more important than mine; you're gonna make a difference.'

'You could too,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah, but not like you can,' Greg said. 'With your brain and charm, you'll definitely change the world; or at least Britain.' He smiled. 'You need to go to the school that'll offer you the most,' he said. 'It's about time you did something for _you_ , Mycroft. You've always done what your parents wanted, or done whatever it's taken to take care of Sherlock. You gotta think about yourself.'

'And what about you?' Mycroft asked.

'I _always_ think about myself,' Greg grinned. Mycroft snorted. 'I'm serious, Myc,' he said softly. 'We'll work it out, yeah? I'm not letting you go, no matter what.'

He smiled when Mycroft squeezed their joined digits and said, 'Okay.'

'Awesome,' Greg grinned.


	58. United States of Eurasia (+Collateral Damage)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** United States of Eurasia (+Collateral Damage) by Muse
> 
>  **Author's Note:** I want to thank everyone for the overwhelming support I've been getting for this story. It makes me smile like a lunatic to know there are people out there actually reading and enjoying my story. So thank you :)
> 
> Now, on with the chapter!
> 
> {Dreamer}

Greg leaned over and kissed Mycroft's cheek before looking at the piano. 'Play me something?'

'Like what?'

Greg shrugged. 'Anything.'

Mycroft smiled and looked at the piano. He made Greg shift down a bit so he could reach the correct keys and the foot pedals underneath. 'Hmm...' he hummed. 'Do you listen to Muse?'

''Course,' Greg nodded.

Mycroft smiled again and looked back at the piano before he began to play. It was familiar, something light yet with a hint of strength behind it. One hand tapped at the keys quickly, while the other played the lower notes. Greg knew nothing about music, so he had no idea what exactly Mycroft was doing.

He _did_ know that it was amazing, especially when Mycroft started playing louder, the keys picking up, becoming higher, before dropping back to what he'd started playing. It took at least a good two minutes for Greg to realise what song it was.

'Sunburn,' he said.

Mycroft chuckled. 'Yes. From their first album.'

'Did you teach yourself?' Greg asked.

'The piano part of the song is repetitive,' Mycroft said, 'it's not hard to learn. And yes, I taught myself.'

'You're amazing,' Greg said. 'I bet you can play the guitar parts too.'

Mycroft smiled and his fingers trailed off until the piano was silent.

'I can also play this,' he said before moving his fingers to one end of the piano. The keys he played were higher pitched and immediately familiar.

'New Born,' Greg said. 'From...'

'Origin of Symmetry, Muse's second album,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah, that's it,' Greg said.

Mycroft started playing more notes faster and Greg nodded along, tapping at his thigh. 'Link it to the world... link it to yourself... stretch it like a birth squeeze,' Mycroft sang softly.

'The love for what you hide,' Greg took over, 'for bitterness inside.'

'Is growing like the new _boornn_ ,' Mycroft sang.

'When you've _seeen_ ,' they both sang, ' _seen_ too _muuuch_...'

'Too young... young...' Greg said.

'Soulless is everywhere...' Mycroft finished. He stopped playing and Greg felt a sense of loss. He was used to listening to the song completely and it felt weird not to hear the drums and guitars come in.

'Awesome,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft chuckled and tapped at the keys. 'There's another Muse song I can play,' he said. 'Only the beginning, of course, because I can't play the drums and guitars at the same time.'

'I bet you could,' Greg said.

'If I had eight arms, maybe,' Mycroft said. He started humming, his fingers ghosting over the keys, and Greg wondered what he was going to play; a lot of Muse songs had piano parts.

Again, as soon as Mycroft started playing Greg knew the song. It was one of his favourite Muse songs and he closed his eyes, letting the piano notes wash over him. Mycroft played beautifully, and the song itself was beautiful; Greg sighed and opened his eyes to watch Mycroft play.

He was completely focused, eyes closed. Mycroft didn't just play with his fingers or hands; his entire body swayed to the music, his feet pressing against the pedals beneath. His head swayed back and forth to the notes as his fingers pressed against the keys. It seemed to be a fairly simple song, but Greg knew he'd never be able to play.

'Resistance,' Greg breathed when Mycroft stopped.

'One of my favourites,' Mycroft nodded. 'Love is our resistance,' he sang softly.

'They'll keep us apart and they won't stop breaking us down,' Greg joined in.

'Hold me...'

'Our lips must always be sealed,' Greg sang before leaning over and kissing Mycroft's cheek. Mycroft smiled and looked back at the piano. 'You really are amazing,' Greg said as Mycroft tapped out another Muse song. 'Seriously,' Greg said. Mycroft just smiled. 'Do you know how to play every Muse song?' Greg asked.

'No,' Mycroft said. 'Just New Born, Sunburn, Resistance, Neutron Star Collision, and...' he trailed off and looked pointedly at Greg as he played.

'United States of Eurasia,' Greg said, 'which you're playing now.'

'You...' Mycroft sang, 'and me are the same...'

'We don't know... or care who's to blame,' Greg couldn't help but join in.

Mycroft smiled at him. 'But we know that whoever holds the reins...'

'... nothing will change,' Greg sang, 'our cause has gone insane...'

'And these wars, they can't be won,' Mycroft sang, his voice soft and gentle, 'and these wars, they can't be won... and do you want them to go on and on and _oon_... why split these states-'

'When there can be only _ooone_!' Greg shouted. The shop owner, who had been watching them since Mycroft started playing, chuckled. 'Must we do as we're _toold_...? Must we do as we're _tooold_?'

Mycroft started playing louder, fingers pressing harder against the keys, and Greg nodded along, getting into the song and forgetting that they were in public and were starting to draw an audience.

Instead of Greg singing, Mycroft took over, and his voice was strong, confident, making Greg stare at him. ' _Yoouu_ and me _faall_ in _liiine_... to be punished... for _unprooven criimes _... and we know that there is no one _wee_ can _truuust_ ; our ancient heroes, they are turning to _duuust_...'__

__'And these wars,' Greg took over, his voice rougher than Mycroft's, 'they can't be _woon_... does anyone know... or care how they _beguun_?'_ _

__'They just promise to go on and on and _ooonn_ ,' Mycroft sang._ _

__'But soon we will see,' Greg practically shouted, drawing a laugh from Mycroft, 'there can be only _oonnee_!'_ _

__'United States,' Mycroft sang, 'United _Staaaatttess_... OF!' He played hard again, entire body moving forward with his hands. His eyes were once more closed, an expression of intense concentration and pleasure on his face._ _

__Greg couldn't find his voice so they skipped over the whole "Eurasia" part and Mycroft started playing the end, his eyes still shut. His body relaxed somewhat as the song grew gentle, and Greg was completely captivated._ _

__Mycroft's fingers were so soft and sure as they danced slowly along the keys, and he didn't even have to look to know where to place his hands. He just played, completely confident in his ability, an artist who loved what he produced._ _

__Greg couldn't tear his eyes away. He alternated between watching Mycroft's fingers; his long, nimble digits tapping at the white and black keys; and watching Mycroft's face; his eyes closed, lips pressed together, a look of relaxation, of love, on his pale, slightly freckled face._ _

__When Mycroft started humming under his breath, Greg knew the song was coming to a close. But he didn't want it to end; how could anyone think that Mycroft didn't play beautifully? How could Siger Holmes force his son to give up something that he obviously loved and was amazing at?_ _

__Greg had to hold the anger back, and he let Mycroft's playing wash over him. It calmed him down quickly and by the time Mycroft played the last key Greg was grinning again._ _

__But then Mycroft didn't stop; the song changed into Exogenesis: Symphony Part 3, and Greg realised Mycroft had totally just lied to him._ _

__But he could definitely forgive his boyfriend, because the song was beautiful. It was full of heart, slightly sad yet with a hint of hope underneath. Mycroft still hadn't opened his eyes and Greg felt his heart rate pick up. Damn it, Mycroft was... _amazing_._ _

__'Redemption,' Mycroft whispered and Greg could only nod. It was the last of the Exogenesis Parts, and Greg wondered if Mycroft could play the first two._ _

__The song started picking up, Mycroft again playing louder, playing the higher notes. He was humming under his breath and soon he started singing._ _

__'Let's.... start... _oovveerr_... _agaaain_ ,' Mycroft's voice was high and gentle and Greg bit his bottom lip. 'Why can't we _staaart_ it... _oovveerr_... _agaaiinn_? Just let us... _staart_ it... over _agaain_...'_ _

__Mycroft's voice was high and loud at the end and he opened his eyes, bright blue irises resting on Greg and making the brunette shiver._ _

__'And we'll be _goood_ ,' Mycroft sang._ _

__'This time we'll _geeet_ it...' Greg hummed._ _

__'Get it _riight_...' Mycroft's voice complemented his playing completely, and Greg wanted to smack him for saying he couldn't sing. There didn't seem to be _anything_ Mycroft Holmes couldn't do. 'It's our last _chaaance_...' Mycroft sang again._ _

__'... _tooo_ forgive ourselves...' Greg murmured softly._ _

__Mycroft's smile broadened and his eyes closed once more as he played the last part of the song. He was humming the string parts, and his voice washed over Greg- and everyone listening at the front of the store- while Mycroft's fingers tapped gently at the piano keys. Slowly, so slowly, he finished the song._ _

__As soon as Mycroft drew back, eyes opening, the two teenagers heard clapping from behind them. They both turned to see at least a dozen people standing in the doorway of the music shop, all watching them and cheering. Mycroft instantly flushed a bright red and Greg chuckled._ _

__'Seems you have fans,' Greg commented._ _

__'Just kill me now,' Mycroft murmured._ _

__Greg laughed and kissed his boyfriend._ _

__'That was amazing,' the owner said as he came over. 'How long have you been playing?'_ _

__'Um... I started learning when I was five,' Mycroft told the man, 'but I haven't played since I was fifteen.'_ _

__'You're amazing,' the man repeated._ _

__'Thank you,' Mycroft blushed._ _

__'Seriously,' Greg agreed and his partner looked at him, 'you fucking rock, Mycroft.'_ _

__Mycroft smiled and let Greg kiss his cheek. The two stood and the owner thanked them for the show. 'I can't believe all those people were watching us,' Mycroft murmured as they left._ _

__' _You_ , Mycroft,' Greg corrected. 'They were watching _you_.' Mycroft looked at him. 'You were fucking amazing and I'm so finding somewhere for you to put a piano.'_ _

__'Really?'_ _

__'Yeah,' Greg nodded. He reached out and threaded their fingers together. 'You're amazing.'_ _

__Mycroft smiled and squeezed their linked digits. 'You're amazing too.'_ _

__Greg tugged Mycroft to a halt and pressed their lips together for a warm, gentle, loving kiss._ _

__When they broke apart Greg Mycroft said, 'I was playing for you.'_ _

__'Yeah?' Mycroft nodded and Greg kissed him again. 'Thank you.'_ _

__'Not a problem,' Mycroft said. The two smiled at each other before they continued through the shopping centre, Greg swinging their joined hands and Mycroft smiling at him._ _

____

 

{oOo}

 

Greg and Mycroft grabbed kebabs and hot chips for dinner after the movie and headed back to Greg's house. Maggie was sitting on the sofa reading her Matthew Reilly book and looked up when they walked in.

'Hey, boys.'

'Hello, Margaret,' Mycroft replied.

Maggie chuckled and Greg said, 'Don't fight him, Mum. He still calls me Gregory.'

'That's your name,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah, but _nobody_ calls me Gregory,' Greg said.

Mycroft smiled. 'Exactly.'

Greg blinked before blushing lightly and pulling open the plastic bag he was carrying. Maggie smiled as Greg coughed and said, 'Er, Mum, we got kebabs.'

'Mm, yummy,' Maggie said. 'Hang on, I'll get us drinks.'

'I'll have a coke,' Greg said.

'Me too, please,' Mycroft said when Maggie looked at him.

She nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, only to return a few seconds later with three cans of coke. The three settled down to eat and Greg checked what DVD was in the player.

'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire?' he chuckled.

'I was watching it earlier,' Maggie said.

'You _so_ love Alan Rickman,' Greg teased.

'Well _you_ love the guy who plays Lucius Malfoy,' Maggie countered. 'What's his name...?'

'Jason Isaacs,' Mycroft said.

'That's it!' Maggie said and pointed at Greg. 'You totally want to have Jason Isaacs' babies.'

'What?' Greg spluttered, almost choking on a piece of chicken. He guzzled down some coke and said, 'How the hell would I have his babies?'

'Science, my dear boy,' Maggie said in a serious voice that had Mycroft giggling, 'science can do _anything_.'

'I don't wanna have his babies,' Greg huffed.

'Oh, right,' Maggie nodded and glanced at Mycroft. 'So you want to have Mycroft's babies?'

' _Mum_!' Greg groaned.

'What?' Maggie asked. 'I'd like grandchildren at some point, Gregory.'

'Oh God, I hate you,' Greg said and rubbed his eyes.

'I'm teasing, love,' Maggie smiled. She looked at Mycroft. 'I'm only teasing. You're both young, you shouldn't be thinking about children yet.'

Mycroft and Greg looked at each other, both thinking about the whole "Tony Holmes" conversation they'd had. They could both picture a little boy running around a backyard; a little boy with either brown hair and chocolate brown eyes, or auburn hair and blue eyes.

Neither said anything but Maggie saw the connection. Rather than tease, she smiled and grabbed the controller off Greg. When the Harry Potter theme blasted from the speakers both teenagers snapped out of it and went back to their food.

'Mm, Alan Rickman,' Maggie hummed.

Mycroft chuckled while Greg groaned.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg and Mycroft were curled up on the sofa together, Maggie in one of the armchairs, when Mycroft tapped Greg's chest.

'Wha?' Greg murmured.

'I have to go.'

Greg sat up and looked down at his partner. 'What? Why?'

'It's Sunday night and we have school tomorrow,' Mycroft said.

Greg pouted and watched as Mycroft stood. 'But... but...'

'No buts,' Mycroft called over his shoulder. He disappeared down the hallway and came back with his bag. 'I have to go.'

'No,' Greg huffed.

'Gregory-'

'Nah-ah, I'm gonna kidnap you,' Greg said. He knelt on the sofa and leaned over the back, hooking his arms around Mycroft's neck. He tugged the genius down for a kiss and Mycroft smiled against his lips.

'Gregory,' he said when they broke apart.

'Fine,' Greg groaned. 'Ruin my night.'

'We spent the entire weekend together,' Mycroft reminded him.

'Still not long enough,' Greg said. He climbed off the sofa and followed Mycroft to the front door. Maggie kept her eyes on her book but was smiling.

Mycroft turned to face his boyfriend and said, 'I had a lot of fun today.'

'Yeah?'

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'Best first date ever.'

'Cool,' Greg smiled. 'We'll do it again soon.'

'I'll hold you to that,' Mycroft said.

They kissed again, their eyes sliding shut, their tongues coming out to play. Neither wanted to break apart, but the need for air eventually had them separating. Greg pressed his forehead against Mycroft's as the two breathed in and out.

'What, no sex?' Greg whispered.

Mycroft chuckled and said softly, 'I don't put out on the first date, Gregory dear.'

'Ah, you were _so_ gonna put out at the park,' Greg teased.

'Yes, before those two women interrupted us,' Mycroft nodded. 'And as much as I enjoy sex with you, I'm not an exhibitionist.'

'Sure, sure,' Greg snickered. 'Just wait, I'll convert you.'

'You really want other people to see me naked?' Mycroft queried.

A frown spread across Greg's face. 'No...'

'Exactly,' Mycroft smiled. He pecked Greg on the lips and said, 'I'll see you tomorrow.'

'M'kay.'

'Try not to get suspended this time,' Mycroft said as he pulled back. 'I miss spending lunch with you.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg chuckled. He looked Mycroft over carefully before capturing his lips again.

'Gregory-'

'Just one more kiss,' Greg mumbled against his lips.

They broke apart twenty minutes later, breathing heavily. 'Are you sure you don't want sex?' Greg asked softly.

'I have to get home,' Mycroft smiled. 'Maybe if you're good I'll give you a treat tomorrow.'

'Ooh, me likey,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft smiled and kissed him again, this time on the forehead. He had to pry Greg's hands off his shirt and Greg pouted. 'Tomorrow, Gregory dear.'

'Goodnight, Mycroft darling,' Greg replied.

Mycroft kissed him on the cheek and Greg watched Mycroft walked down the driveway to his car. He sighed before closing the door.

But he made no moves to go anywhere else; instead he stood still, leaning against the door and staring into space. He couldn't believe how much he missed Mycroft. The red-head had been gone all of forty seconds!

 _God, I'm pathetic..._ He thought back to his slip earlier that day and smiled slightly. _I'm in love,_ he corrected himself.

'What are you smiling about?' Maggie asked as she walked from the kitchen to the sitting room.

'Just... Mycroft,' Greg shrugged.

Maggie chuckled. 'You're so cute when you're in love.' Greg opened his mouth and Maggie quickly said, 'Sorry, sorry; not love, just like.'

'No, I...' Greg took a deep breath. 'Mum, I think I love Mycroft.'

Maggie froze. 'Really?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'I... I really think I love him.' He looked up at his mum carefully. 'You, um... don't think that's stupid? 'Cause of how young we are?'

'Gregory, no,' Maggie shook her head. She walked into the sitting room and Greg looked over the sofa at her as she put her mug on the coffee table. 'Love has no boundaries,' Maggie said. 'Yes, you and Mycroft are young. But if you say you love him, then you do. I just want you to be happy.'

'Thanks, Mum,' Greg smiled.

'And make sure you take care of that boy,' Maggie said.

'Yeah, I know; he's a good young man,' Greg laughed.

Maggie smiled at him and said, 'I'm happy for you, Greg.'

'Thanks. I know I've...' he took a breath before continuing, 'I know I've screwed up a lot in the past, but I'm getting myself together, you know? I... I want to make you proud.'

'Oh, honey,' Maggie said and walked around the sofa. She pulled Greg in for a quick hug and kissed his cheek. 'You've already made me proud, dear. You're the best son a mother could ask for. I just want you to be happy and healthy, whatever you decide to do.'

'I know,' Greg nodded.

Maggie kissed his cheek again and said, 'I love you, honey.'

'Love you too,' Greg smiled.

Maggie patted his cheek before pushing him away. 'Now go do the dishes.'

'Oh yeah, just force your first born to do the hard labor,' Greg scoffed.

'You're my only born,' Maggie reminded him.

'That we know of,' Greg teased and looked at Maggie's stomach.

'Are you saying I'm fat?' Maggie demanded.

Greg blinked rapidly before saying, 'Nope, I do _not_ think that, I didn't _say_ it, nope, nah-ah. You're perfect, Mum!' He clapped his hands together before taking off and slamming the kitchen door behind him.

Maggie laughed and shook her head. 'Teenagers,' she muttered before plopping onto the sofa to finish watching Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.


	59. Come What May

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Come What May by Ewan McGregor  & Nicole Kidman

Greg had only just got off his bike when someone was tugging on his arm. He pulled his helmet off and turned to see John Watson. The younger teenager looked nervous; his short blondish-brown hair was all over the place, dark blue eyes wide and scared, and his shirt was untucked, his tie askew.

'Hey, John,' Greg said, 'what's up?'

'I need to talk to you!' John hissed.

'Okay...' Greg said slowly. He noticed John's eyes darting around the carpark and said, 'Um, wanna go to the smokers' corner? I feel like I'm gonna need a cigarette for this.'

John nodded quickly and let Greg lead the way. When they reached the small, closed-off area, Greg pulled out a cigarette and offered John the packet. He didn't condone underage smoking, but seeing as how he did it himself, he was in no place to judge.

'I don't smoke,' John said and wrinkled his nose at the packet.

'Good,' Greg nodded. He lit up and blew smoke above his head. 'So, what's up?'

'Well... I... uh...'

John was fidgeting like crazy and glancing around with wide eyes. Greg frowned and reached out to grab his shoulder.

When the smaller boy jumped Greg said, 'Whoa, easy there.' John looked at him. 'Calm down, mate.'

John made an obvious effort to get himself under control. He closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth, until he'd stopped jumping around like an over-excited puppy.

'Okay, that's good,' Greg nodded encouragingly. 'Now, what's up?'

John opened his eyes slowly and stared straight at Greg as the older teen took a drag of his cigarette.

'Sherlock kissed me,' John blurted.

Greg choked on his lungful of smoke. He coughed and spluttered, pounding a fist against his chest as he tried to clear his throat. John just waited with wide-eyes until Greg spluttered, 'W-What?'

'Sherlock kissed me,' John repeated. 'And I... I kissed Sherlock.'

' _Ookaaay_ ,' Greg said. 'So-'

'R-Remember a few weeks ago, when you and Mycroft were at the Manor and... um... doing stuff?'

Greg nodded even though he didn't remember the specific time John was talking about.

'Me and Sherlock were in the stables 'cause he buried some stuff- somethin' about an experiment,' John explained quickly, 'and he tripped over somethin' 'cause of how excited he was and he-he landed on me and we were, you know, looking at each other. And then we both kinda leaned in, like we were gonna kiss, but Mr Andrew came out and so we just, like, ran and stuff,' John said.

Greg nodded, remaining silent so John could continue.

'We didn't mention it until Sherlock brought it up yesterday,' John said. 'He said we almost, you know, kissed, and he wondered what it was like, and I did too, 'cause I've never kissed anyone, and then Sherlock kissed me, and it was nice, and then... then he asked if he could do it again and I said yes and then we were kissing and I didn't know what to do and I was scared but excited and scared 'cause I was excited and-'

He was beginning to hyperventilate again and Greg dropped his cigarette in favour of grabbing John's shoulders.

'Hey, John, deep breaths,' Greg ordered. 'Come on, mate, deep breaths.'

John did as he was told, again inhaling through his nose, exhaling through his mouth. When he had control of himself once more he stared up at Greg.

'Right,' Greg said, 'so, what kind of kisses?'

John frowned. 'What?'

'Were they just pecks on the lips?' Greg asked. 'Or was there movement? Were tongues in mouths or...?'

'Um...' John frowned as he thought, 'the... the first one was a peck on the lips. And the others were... were, like, movement, but no tongue.' He shook his head rapidly. 'If there was tongue I probably would have fainted.'

Greg chuckled and let the younger boy go. 'Okay,' he said. 'Now, what's the problem?'

John started fidgeting with his blazer but was breathing calmly. 'I... w-what do I do?' he asked.

'Well... did you and Sherlock talk about it?' Greg asked.

'No,' John shook his head. 'We were kissing when Mrs Hudson knocked on the door and said my mum was there to pick me up. That was yesterday afternoon, I haven't seen Sherlock yet.'

He looked up at Greg again.

'Does this, um... make us boyfriends or something?' he asked. 'Am I gay 'cause I kissed him?'

'Well,' Greg mused, 'are you attracted to Sherlock?' John blushed brightly and looked down. 'That's a yes,' Greg chuckled. 'Are you attracted to any other guys or girls?'

'Um...' John murmured, 'I kinda think that guy on Torchwood is hot. Um... the one who plays Ianto.'

'Mm, he _is_ hot,' Greg nodded in agreement.

'And... and Billie Piper, who played Rose Tyler in Doctor Who, she's hot,' John blushed.

'Okay,' Greg said, 'well, it seems to me that you're bisexual.'

'So... I like both?' John asked.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Doesn't make you weird, John. Lots of people like both.'

'Okay,' John said.

'Now, onto Sherlock,' Greg said and leaned against the wall. 'Do you _want_ to be his boyfriend?'

'Uh... yes,' John nodded. 'I want... I want what you and Mycroft have, you know? I want to only kiss Sherlock and only have him kiss me and... and all that stuff.'

'That's good, John,' Greg said. 'What you have to do is talk to Sherlock.' Once again John turned a bright shade of red. 'I know it's scary, mate, but you can't figure this out until you talk to Sherlock. You have to find out if he feels the same way. Now, there's no rush to be boyfriends, alright? You should take this slowly; you're young, you don't have to rush into anything.'

'But I don't want anyone else,' John said.

'Just tell Sherlock that,' Greg said. 'If he wants the same thing, then fine, you start dating. You can work on your relationship and just let it progress naturally. If Sherlock _doesn't_ want that, well you can start to get over him.

'It'll hurt if Sherlock rejects you, it always does,' Greg said, 'but it's best not to hang around waiting for him to change his mind. If he says no, you can try to remain friends, and you can start looking at other people and leave yourself open to get a different boyfriend or girlfriend. You're cute, so no worries getting people.'

John blushed and looked down shyly at his feet. 'Do... do you really think I'm cute?' he mumbled.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Obviously you're way too young for me, and I love Mycroft, but you'll get the guys and girls to notice you soon enough.'

John's head snapped up and he stared hard at Greg.

'What?' Greg asked.

'You... love Mycroft?'

Greg froze as he realised that he _had_ just told John that he was in love with the elder Holmes. 'Er...' he took a breath, 'yeah, I'm pretty sure I love Mycroft,' he nodded. 'I haven't told him yet, but I plan to. So don't say anything to anyone, alright?'

'Yeah, sure,' John nodded. 'I won't say a word, promise.'

'Thanks,' Greg said.

John smiled at him. 'Um... thank you for talking to me.'

'No worries, I said I was here,' Greg smiled. 'You can talk to me about anything, at any time. Call me, turn up at my place, whatever.'

'Thank you,' John repeated. He looked at his watch and said, 'I should go, I need to think.'

'I'll see you around,' Greg nodded.

John smiled, thanked him again, and walked away. Greg stood staring at the spot John had vacated before digging around for his cigarettes and lighting another. He chuckled as he blew smoke above his head.

_Damn, I didn't kiss anyone 'til I was fourteen,_ he thought. _Good for you, John._

 

{oOo}

 

'What's with the shit-eating grin?' Dimmock asked as he plopped into the seat beside Greg.

Greg grinned at him. 'Everything's going right, Dimmo,' he said. 'Mycroft's my boyfriend, classes are going well, I'm getting regular, fantastic sex... everything's perfect.' His grin widened and Dimmock rolled his eyes. 'What?'

'God you're annoying when you're happy.'

'How do you think I felt when you started dating Molly?' Greg demanded.

'Er... jealous?' Dimmock tried.

'Of you having someone who liked you? Yes,' Greg nodded. 'Of having a girlfriend? Hell no.'

Dimmock chuckled and shook his head. 'You're happy with Mycroft, I get it.'

'Damn happy.'

'Okay,' Dimmock smiled and took his books out. It wasn't until he'd put his notebook and pens on the table that he realised Greg was staring at him. 'What?'

'Um... you love Molly, yeah?'

'Yeah,' Dimmock nodded.

'How... how did you know it was love?' Greg asked. 'Like, actual _love_ , not just... liking her. How'd you know you loved her?'

Dimmock paused and leaned back in his seat. He could tell Greg was serious, so he wanted to give his best mate a serious, honest answer.

'Well,' he finally said, 'it wasn't just one thing, it was a heap of things. Like... I just got really happy whenever I saw her and wanted to spend all my time with her. Everything we did together was great, and even when we had stupid fights, I still wanted to be with her. I wanted to work hard to fix what we'd done wrong. I could imagine myself spending my life with her, even though we're only seventeen.'

Dimmock paused to make sure Greg was listening before continuing.

'It's just a feeling in your gut and heart,' Dimmock said. 'Wanting to spend all your time with the one person, not caring about their faults and mistakes they've made, knowing that no matter what you'll always want to be with them... all of that made me realise I loved Molly and didn't just like her, didn't just want her for sex. You can't really explain love,' he shrugged. 'It makes you feel happy and stupid and just... awesome.'

Greg nodded slowly.

'Why?' Dimmock asked.

Greg sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'I think... I think I'm in love with Mycroft,' he murmured.

'Of course you are,' Dimmock chuckled.

Greg frowned at him.

'What?' Dimmock said. 'I could tell from the beginning, Greg.'

'You could?'

Dimmock nodded. 'The way you were always thinking about him, talking about him, wanting to be with him. You blew off everything for Mycroft and did everything in your power to spend more time with him. The way you look at him and just... everything, Greg.' He smiled. 'You're totally in love with him.'

'And... you don't think it's too soon?' Greg asked. 'We've only been dating a few weeks.'

'You've been together three months,' Dimmock said, 'and you've known him over two years. Doesn't matter that you've only been officially dating a week or whatever. You weren't sleepin' with anyone else those three months, were you?'

'No.'

'And you weren't thinking about anyone else?'

'No, only Mycroft,' Greg said.

'See? You were already together,' Dimmock said.

Greg pursed his lips. 'I don't know if Mycroft was with anyone else,' he admitted. 'I don't think he was but... I can't know for sure.'

'You could ask him,' Dimmock suggested.

'I suppose,' Greg sighed.

'Greg, I don't think it's too soon,' Dimmock said. 'Yeah, you're both young, and this is your first real relationship. A lot of people would say it's not real love, but... you and Mycroft just fit, you know? I've never seen anything like it. Lookin' at you two is like... lookin' at a couple that's been married twenty years. You can't take your eyes off each other, you still look at each other like it's your first date.' He smiled. 'I reckon it's forever.'

Greg chuckled. 'God, we sound so... gay.'

'Well you _are_ gay,' Dimmock pointed out. 'I guess you're just extra gay with Mycroft.'

Greg laughed again and leaned back against the wall. 'I love Mycroft,' he admitted softly with a faint smile on his face. It felt right saying it, it felt... freeing. There was no hesitation, no doubt, nothing but happiness and lust and a faint trace of fear- and even _that_ made him giddy. He loved Mycroft Holmes and he didn't want to deny it.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It was like when Greg had finally admitted to himself that he fancied Mycroft. It was good to acknowledge how he really felt and it made Greg smile.

'I know, Greg,' Dimmock smiled.

'Now I just gotta tell him,' Greg said, 'and hope he doesn't run.'

'He won't,' Dimmock said confidently.

'I hope so,' Greg replied. 'I kinda got a plan on how to tell him.'

'Yeah?'

Greg nodded and quickly told Dimmock what he'd thought of on his and Mycroft's first date the day before. By the time he finished Dimmock was laughing.

'What?' Greg asked. 'Is it stupid?'

'No, it's... awesome,' Dimmock said. 'Honestly, Greg, that's amazing.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah,' Dimmock nodded. 'Mycroft's a lucky bloke.'

Greg smiled. 'Thanks, Dimmo.'

'I'm just glad you're not denying it,' Dimmock said.

Greg chuckled. 'I'm way past denial, Dimmock,' he said. 'I'm all in.'

'Good,' Dimmock said. 'I'm glad you're happy.'

'Fuckin' ecstatic is what I am,' Greg said.

Dimmock smiled.

Greg's mobile buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to find a text from an unknown number. Dimmock watched as his best friend swiped his thumb along the screen and unlocked it to read the message;

 

_Sherlock's my boyfriend. Thank you :) - John_

 

Greg chuckled and felt warmth spread through his chest. He was happy for the young couple, and he felt good knowing he'd helped them.

'What's up?' Dimmock asked.

Greg thought about telling him before shaking his head. 'Sorry, not my place to tell,' Greg said as he put his phone away.

Dimmock raised an eyebrow but let it go; if Greg didn't want to tell him, Dimmock wouldn't push.

'But... I helped someone,' Greg said and smiled.

Dimmock nodded. 'That's good,' he said. 'You can help me with my homework.'

'What, you didn't do it?'

'Nope,' Dimmock said and smiled at Greg while batting his eyelashes. 'Have I told you how pretty you look today?'

'Flattery will get you nowhere,' Greg grinned even as he pulled out his homework and tossed it to Dimmock. 'Or a punch in the face from Mycroft.'

'Ooh, I look forward to it,' Dimmock hummed and tugged Greg's book across the desk.

Greg laughed.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg was late for Biology. Not that he cared, really. The only class he ever rushed to was English Lit and that was because Mycroft was there. Not that Greg would ever admit _that_. He might be officially dating Mycroft, but he didn't want to appear clingy... even though Dimmock teased him every time he rushed out of Biology.

Greg was walking along the walkway to the left of the small grass area when he spotted Mycroft. The genius was sitting on one of the low brick walls reading a novel. He had his head down, attention entirely focused on his book. His hair was shining red in the sun and Greg grinned; he loved when Mycroft's hair took on a dark rust colour.

Mycroft's uniform was, as always, absolutely perfect; his white shirt tucked in, grey trousers pressed, blue blazer straight with one button done, and school tie done up to his neck. Greg used to think Mycroft's perfect uniform made the genius look like a tosser. But now Greg couldn't help but think it made Mycroft look older, aristocratic, well-groomed, and just... _smart_.

And, of course, Greg wanted to mess the uniform up with his hands, make Mycroft's lips kiss swollen, and see that pink tinge that flushed Mycroft's cheeks when he was horny.

Because of the cold weather Mycroft had a navy blue scarf wrapped around his neck and Greg had the sudden urge to jump his partner, rip the cotton aside, and mark that smooth, pale neck with his teeth.

Forgetting all about Biology, Greg jogged down the concrete walkway and towards Mycroft. When he got close enough he leaned over the wall and whispered in Mycroft's ear, 'Hey, gorgeous.'

Mycroft jumped and turned towards Greg in surprise before a smile spread across his face. 'Hello.'

Greg grinned and pecked Mycroft on the lips before jumping onto the brick wall. He shifted until he was sitting beside his boyfriend and glanced at the novel. 'Good book?'

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded and showed Greg the cover.

' _The Casual Vacancy_... oh, the new J.K. Rowling book,' Greg said.

'It's interesting, very different from Harry Potter,' Mycroft said, 'but I'm enjoying it.'

'That's good,' Greg said and looked across the grass area.

'You have Biology,' Mycroft stated and Greg smiled. 'What are you doing here?'

'What are _you_ doing here?' Greg countered.

'Reading in the sun because it's cold,' Mycroft said. 'And I have a free period.'

'Well I'm skiving, obviously,' Greg replied.

'You shouldn't,' Mycroft stated. 'Your education is important, Gregory, especially this close to exams.'

Greg smiled and turned to look at his partner. 'Yeah, I know. But you've skived before.'

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded.

'One class ain't gonna hurt.'

'Isn't,' Mycroft automatically corrected.

'Ooh, you know what you correcting me does,' Greg said before leaning across to seal his mouth to Mycroft's.

All thought of telling Greg to go to class quickly disappeared as Greg's tongue probed the genius' mouth. Mycroft snapped his book shut and dropped it on the brick wall before leaning closer to deepen the kiss.

Greg moaned in satisfaction, one hand coming up to card through Mycroft's hair. Mycroft broke away only to tilt his head and start a new kiss. He bit Greg's bottom lip gently before sticking his tongue into the brunette's mouth. Greg moaned again and pulled Mycroft closer while he tried to shuffle along the brick wall. He wanted nothing more than to drag Mycroft onto his lap, or into the bathrooms, and have his wicked way with the other teenager.

Before Greg _could_ do that, someone behind them was clearing their throat. Greg and Mycroft broke away, both flushed and panting, and turned to see Mr Jambrook. The teacher was carrying a box of papers and raised his eyebrows when Greg and Mycroft looked at him.

'Why do I always find you two making out?' Mr Jambrook drawled.

'Um... 'cause you love us?' Greg ventured.

Jambrook snorted while Mycroft scrubbed his lips and tried to flatten his hair. 'You two are supposed to be in class.'

'Are not,' Greg said.

'I have a free period,' Mycroft told the teacher.

Jambrook's eyes moved to Greg and Greg said, 'Uh... me too.'

'No, you have Biology,' Jambrook said. He set his box down on the wall beside Mycroft and continued, 'I know because you always come into class complaining about Mrs Cameron.'

'Er...'

'Class, Lestrade,' Jambrook said and pointed down the walkway.

Greg cursed and jumped off the brick wall. He turned to Mycroft and said, 'Are we hanging out after school?'

'I can't, my tutor's coming at three-thirty,' Mycroft shook his head.

'What?' Greg whined.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft smiled.

'But why do you even have a tutor?' Greg demanded. 'You're a genius!'

'Yes, but I don't know everything,' Mycroft said. 'And sometimes it helps bouncing ideas off of someone else and having another person explain things to me.'

Greg groaned again and gave Mycroft a pout. 'I have work all this week.'

'You do?'

Greg nodded. 'Four to midnight every day until Saturday.'

'That's... annoying,' Mycroft scowled.

'Tell me about it!' Greg huffed.

Mr Jambrook watched in amusement; it seemed the two teenagers had forgotten he was there.

'And you can't call in sick?' Mycroft asked.

'I need the money,' Greg said. 'After all, how can I keep a guy like you without buying you pretty things?' Greg teased.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'You've never bought me pretty things.'

'Um... well I will now,' Greg declared.

Mycroft chuckled and leaned forward to kiss Greg gently...

... until Mr Jambrook cleared his throat again.

The couple broke apart and Mycroft's cheeks turned pink while Greg ran a hand through his hair. 'Right, er...'

'Class, Lestrade,' Jambrook reminded him.

'Right,' Greg repeated. 'I'll, er, see you in English Lit, Mycroft.' He smiled at his boyfriend before heading across the grass towards his Biology class.

Mycroft watched him go until he realised Mr Jambrook was staring at him. 'I really do have a free period,' Mycroft told the teacher. 'There's nothing more I can learn in my Politics, French, and Mathematics classes so my teachers agreed I could stop coming to class until we have exams.'

Mr Jambrook nodded and said, 'I believe you.'

'Okay...'

Jambrook smiled and said, 'It's good to see you and Lestrade happy.'

'It is?'

The teacher nodded again and picked up his box of books. 'Lestrade's doing better in class, you're being more social... this relationship is a good thing.'

'Erm... thank you?' Mycroft tried.

Mr Jambrook chuckled and said, 'I'll see you in class, Mycroft. Unless you think there's nothing else you can learn?'

'No, there's definitely more I can learn,' Mycroft said quickly.

'And it has nothing to do with the fact that Greg's in that class?' Jambrook asked.

'Er... no,' Mycroft shook his head.

Jambrook laughed again. 'Seeya, Mycroft.'

'Goodbye,' Mycroft replied and watched the teacher walk away. He smiled slightly to himself before going back to his book. He'd just have to sneak into Gregory's room when the brunette got home from work.


	60. Old Friends and New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Note:** Lily Hooper in all her insane, awesome glory, belongs to **SunshineThroughTheStorm** , who is just as awesome.

When Greg pulled into the carpark on Tuesday, Mycroft was already there. He offered his boyfriend a smile and waited until Greg had tugged his helmet off to kiss him.

'Good morning.'

'Mornin',' Greg replied. He climbed off his bike and stretched.

'How was work?' Mycroft asked.

Greg shrugged. 'It was the same as it always is; boring.'

Mycroft smiled and drew Greg closer by the hips. 'My poor Gregory.'

'Yup, that's me,' Greg grinned. 'So make me happy.'

Mycroft chuckled but pressed his lips against Greg's for a gentle morning kiss. The two didn't break apart until two small white school buses pulled into the car park. Mycroft pulled their lips apart and Greg whined.

'Why'd you stop?' Greg asked.

'The debate teams are here,' Mycroft said.

Greg blinked and turned to see the buses. 'Debate teams?' he asked.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and turned back to Greg. 'Yes, the debate teams from St Mary's and Artemis Catholic School, remember?'

Greg stared at him blankly before realisation dawned across his face. 'Oh, right, we're hosting it this semester,' he nodded.

'Yes,' Mycroft said. 'Their students will be joining us for classes for an entire two weeks while we have our debates.'

'I remember,' Greg said. 'Molly's on the debate team.'

'And her sister,' Mycroft mused.

Greg looked at him. 'Oh, so you've met Lily?'

Mycroft inclined his head. 'Yes, Lily and her best friend are rather... ah...'

'Insane?' Greg grinned.

'Odd,' Mycroft replied.

'Nah, they're _real_ insane,' Greg chuckled. 'Seriously, I dunno how they haven't been expelled yet.'

'Didn't Molly say a few weeks ago that her sister was almost expelled?' Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded. 'Wouldn't tell me what about. I'm not sure if _Molly_ knows, actually.'

The couple fell into silence as the bus doors opened. The St Mary's uniform consisted of dark green trousers for the boys, plaid skirts for the girls, white button-up shirts, green ties, and green blazers. Artemis' uniform was exactly the same, only with maroon trousers, skirts, and blazers.

Artemis Catholic School climbed off their bus first. There were about twenty students in all ranging from years 7 to 13. Both Artemis and St Mary's were colleges like Baker Street, which was why the three schools pitted their debate teams against each other. Most of the other schools in the area were only high schools.

The first girl off the St Mary's bus was tall with dark brown hair that was almost black and fell to her shoulders in a messy heap. Greg knew her eyes were dark blue, but all he could see from where he was standing were black glasses with square frames.

Her school uniform was messy like Greg's and she had her green blazer draped over her side-bag. She hit the tar and shouted, 'Here I am, Baker Street Academy!'

Greg laughed and Mycroft smiled. 'She's so different to Molly,' he commented.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Lily's like a completely different species.'

Lily Hooper caught sight of Greg and Mycroft and waved wildly, but before she could move the person standing behind her pushed her aside.

'Jesus, Lily, take up the whole bloody bus,' the girl commented in a thick Australian accent.

Alexandria Schofield was Lily's best friend and had only moved to England two years previously. She was as tall as Lily with short hair dyed black that curled at her collar and bright hazel eyes. Her blazer was tucked between her back and her bag, and she had her school tie wound around one wrist while her other was covered in bracelets.

Lily put on a pout and huffed dramatically. 'Damn it, Alex!'

Alex smirked at her as their classmates filed off the bus, Molly coming out last. 'Would you two pack it in?' she groaned.

'Oh, we're hurt!' Alex swooned.

'Absolutely _hurt_!' Lily joined in.

'We do our best-'

'Our very best!' Lily piped in.

'- to make the trip over here wonderful,' Alex continued. 'And you tell us to pack it _in_?'

'Of all the nerve!' Lily grinned and draped an arm over her best friend's shoulders.

'What, exactly, do you want us to "pack in"?' Alex asked while making airquotes over the last two words.

'Yeah,' Lily nodded while Molly rolled her eyes. 'Al isn't from around here, don't you go using local slang to confuse her!'

Molly frowned at the two girls. 'She's been here for two years!'

'So?' the two girls huffed.

Molly sighed and rubbed her eyes while the two teachers accompanying them, Mrs Rosien and Father Patrick, exited the bus.

'Quite down, girls,' Mrs Rosien tisked.

When she turned her back Alex flipped her off and Lily poked her tongue out.

'I saw that,' Father Patrick smiled at them.

'Forgive me, Father-' Alex began.

'- for I have sinned,' Lily swooned.

'Pack it in, you two!' Mrs Rosien said, already losing her patience.

'Have you been hanging out with Molly?' Alex asked.

The teacher ignored the two and started handing out programmes and talking to the group about what was to be expected over the next two weeks. Greg and Mycroft had moved closer and Greg snickered at Alex and Lily's antics.

'They're a lot like you and Dimmock,' Mycroft mused.

'Oh yeah,' Greg nodded.

Lily caught sight of them again and squealed, interrupting Mrs Rosien as well as the teachers from Artemis. All eyes turned in their direction as Lily ran across the carpark and wrapped her arms around Greg's neck.

'Greggie, Greggie, you're here!' the girl beamed.

Greg laughed and hugged her back. 'Yeah, I'm here, Sunshine.'

'Sunshine?' Mycroft asked.

Before Greg could reply Lily had flung him aside and latched onto Mycroft. 'Mycroft Edwin Holmes, in the flesh!' she shouted.

'Er...' Mycroft wasn't really sure what to say and just patted her back lightly.

Lily pulled back and grinned at Mycroft. 'We've met before, but not properly, not as in _friends_ , just as _rivals_ , and I've never met you as Greggie's _boyfriend_ , and now you are his boyfriend, and- _oi_!'

Lily cut herself off when Alex began dragging her back to the bus by her jumper.

'Talk to your boyfriends later,' Alex said.

'They're not _my_ boyfriends, they're each _other's_ boyfriends,' Lily announced.

All eyes flicked to Greg and Mycroft and both boys blushed lightly. Greg was a bit worried about the teachers- both St Mary's _and_ Artemis Catholic were religious schools, after all- but all the adults, including Father Patrick, just smiled at them before going back to their students.

Greg and Mycroft both wanted a cigarette so Greg waved to Lily and Molly before heading off. They walked across the grass area and rounded the Boster Building before stepping onto the small, secluded concrete area.

'Did you know Mr Jambrook used to smoke here?' Mycroft said once they'd both lit up.

Greg looked at his partner. 'Really?'

Mycroft nodded. 'Before it became illegal to smoke on school property, the teachers and students both smoked here. Mr Jambrook told his other English Literature class, which Andrew is in, and Andrew told me.'

Greg frowned and watched as Mycroft flicked ash off the end of his smoke. 'When were you talkin' to Andy?' he asked.

'Yesterday in History,' Mycroft answered. Greg's frown darkened until Mycroft looked up at him. 'What's wrong?'

Greg blinked and shook his head. 'Nothin'.'

Mycroft looked him over carefully before smirking. 'Are you jealous?'

'What?' Greg spluttered. 'No, 'course not.'

Mycroft laughed. 'You're jealous.'

'Am not!' Greg snapped and turned away. He pouted right up until Mycroft wound his arms around the brunette's waist and pressed a kiss to Greg's cheek.

'You can be jealous,' the genius whispered in his ear.

'I can?' Greg murmured.

He felt Mycroft nod against his cheek. 'I like it; it makes me feel... special, I suppose.'

'Why?' Greg asked.

'You like me enough to get jealous over someone else talking to me,' Mycroft said. 'As long as you don't get violently jealous, I don't mind.'

'It's just...' Greg frowned before continuing, 'you've slept with Andy.'

'As have you.'

'Yeah, but...' Greg sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'Right, sorry.'

'As I said, feel free to get jealous,' Mycroft said. 'As long as you trust me...'

'I _do_ trust you,' Greg said. He turned to face his boyfriend. 'I absolutely do. I'm sorry.'

'Not a problem,' Mycroft smiled and kissed him softly.

'Someone give me a camera!'

Greg and Mycroft broke apart at the shout and Mycroft turned to see Lily, Alex, Molly and Dimmock. Molly rolled her eyes while Dimmock snickered, and Alex handed her best friend her mobile.

Lily immediately began snapping pictures and Greg said, 'Sod off, Sunshine!'

Lily beamed and said, 'Naww, you know you love me!'

Greg laughed and took a step back from Mycroft but threaded his fingers with Mycroft's free hand. Lily's grin widened. 'Lily, this is my boyfriend, Mycroft Holmes,' Greg introduced. 'Mycroft, that's Lily Hooper, Molly's twin, and Alexandria Schofield, Lily's best mate.'

'If you ever call me Alexandria I'll kill you,' Alex hummed pleasantly.

Mycroft blinked at the black-haired girl. She had three piercings through her left ear, one through her right, and had eyeliner and eyeshadow on. The shirt peeking out beneath her school shirt was black, and most of the bracelets on her wrists were black too. Mycroft wondered if she was goth, emo, punk, or just dressed the way she wanted.

'Don't threaten my boyfriend,' Greg said and wagged a finger at Alex.

The Australian stuck her finger up and started hunting around her school bag. Eventually she pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lit one up.

Dimmock did the same, while Lily and Molly started chatting... well, Molly started telling her sister off for being insane, and Lily grinned and bounced on the balls of her feet.

'Molls, give it a rest,' Dimmock finally stepped in. 'You know what she's like.'

'Yeah, you know what I'm like,' Lily grinned.

'Insane?' Alex tried.

'Oh, that is so rude!' Lily huffed and flapped a hand. 'Why you gotta hurt me so, Wombat?'

'Would you stop calling me wombat!' Alex snapped.

'Fine, Skippy,' Lily grinned.

'I'm warning you...' Alex growled.

'Koala?'

'No.'

'Spider?'

'No.'

'Sharky?'

' _No_.'

'Well you _have_ to like being called platypus, they're just so cute!' Lily grinned.

Alex sighed and took a long drag of her cigarette. 'Fine, call me wombat.'

'Yay!' Lily shouted and wrapped her arms around her best friend, giving her a squeeze. Alex shook her head but hugged the other girl back.

'Are they always like this?' Mycroft asked. He knew both girls from the debate team- Molly had been on it since they started high school, Lily had joined about three years ago, and Alex when she'd started attending St Mary's two years previously. He found it hard to believe that two girls could have as much energy as Lily and Alex did.

'Oh yeah,' Greg nodded.

'You should see them when they eat chocolate and soda,' Molly groaned.

'We be crazy,' Lily said while Alex chuckled.

'We call her Sunshine,' Alex said and indicated Lily, 'because she's always so...'

'Crazy?' Lily asked.

'Bright,' Alex corrected.

'And we call _her_ -' Lily jerked her thumb at Alex, '- Wombat, 'cause she's Aussie.'

'We also call her Dreamer because she's always daydreaming,' Molly offered.

'I see,' Mycroft mused.

'You get used to them,' Dimmock said. 'Soon they get over-excited about something and bounce off.'

Lily brushed a hand over her slightly freckled face and said, 'I need orange juice.'

'See,' Dimmock smiled.

'Orange juice!' Lily shouted.

Alex smiled and stamped out her cigarette. 'Come on, we gotta go meet Father Patrick soon.'

'Lead the way to Priest-Man, Wombat!' Lily shouted.

Alex shook her head, said, 'Seeya 'round,' to the group, and headed off, Lily running after her.

'Well...' Mycroft mused and the others looked at him. 'Your sister certainly is... one of a kind,' he said to Molly.

'Yeah,' Molly laughed. 'We're as different as two people can get.'

'You have _some_ similarities,' Greg said.

Molly just smiled and kissed Dimmock's cheek. 'I better go find Father Patrick.'

Dimmock nodded and the three guys watched as Molly disappeared.

'I can't believe they have a priest for a teacher,' Greg said.

'He sounds alright,' Dimmock said. 'Molly said he's accepting of all people, even gays.'

'Yeah, I saw that,' Greg nodded.

'See?' Mycroft said. 'Not all religious people hate homosexuality.'

'Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time,' Greg scowled.

Mycroft just smirked and kissed him on the cheek.

 

{oOo}

 

The first debate was that afternoon between St Mary's and Baker Street. Greg didn't know how it worked out between three schools, or even what they were debating about, but really he didn't care. All he _did_ care about was his boyfriend.

Mycroft and Sherlock were the only two students who didn't need palm cards to remember what they were talking about. All the other students involved in the debate could be seen muttering to themselves while they flicked over their cards. Mycroft just walked into the food hall calmly while John quizzed Sherlock on the subject at their table.

Mycroft sat beside his boyfriend and raised an eyebrow when he realised Joe and BJ were sitting at the table.

'Dylan's being a dick,' Joe said to Mycroft's look.

'I see,' Mycroft hummed.

Greg was sitting on the table facing Mycroft and leaned down to kiss him softly before going back to his crisps. 'Are you ready for the debate?' he asked.

Mycroft inclined his head. 'I'm always well prepared.'

''Course you are,' Greg grinned.

'What's the debate about, Greg?' Joe asked.

Greg threw him a glare and Joe and BJ both snickered. 'Um... it's about... stuff,' Greg tried.

Mycroft chuckled and squeezed his partner's knee. 'Don't worry, Gregory. I don't expect you to know everything about my life.'

'I'm totally comin' to the debate,' Greg said.

'You're only goin' to get out of class,' BJ said.

' _Noo_ ,' Greg huffed. 'I'm goin' to watch my boyfriend kick some arse!'

He shouted the last three words across the hall, earning looks from half the students assembled. Mycroft shook his head and Greg grinned as he stuffed crisps into his mouth.

Mycroft pulled out the sandwich he'd bought and started eating while Greg chatted to Joe and BJ. Soon they were joined by Dimmock, Molly, Lily and Alex, the latter two talking about some radio show they loved.

'Are you sure you're prepared?' Molly asked Lily, interrupting the girls' conversation.

Lily gave Molly a big grin. ''Course I'm ready, sister. I've got my speech _down_.'

'You're _going_ down,' Greg commented.

Lily turned to him. 'What was that, Greggie?'

'I said you're going down,' Greg repeated. 'You're up against Baker Street.'

'So?' Lily said.

Greg grinned and glanced at his boyfriend. 'Well... Baker Street has Mycroft _and_ Sherlock Holmes; how can you possibly compete with that?'

'Hey, we might win!' Lily huffed.

'When have we ever won?' Alex asked. 'Since I joined we've lost each debate to Mycroft Holmes.'

Lily scowled at her best friend. 'You're supposed to be on my side.'

'I _am_ on your side,' Alex said as she munched on a chocolate bar. ''m just bein' realistic.'

Lily rounded on Mycroft, who had been watching the conversation with a faint smile. 'You are _so_ goin' down, Mikey!'

'I look forward to it,' Mycroft smiled.

 

{oOo}

 

Greg crept into the back of the hall and spotted Dimmock, Sally Donovan, and John Watson sitting up the very back. Mrs Mallen was one of three teachers looking over the debate and Greg knew he'd get chucked out if she saw him.

John turned when Greg jumped over the row of seats and plopped down beside him. 'What are you doing here?'

'Watchin' Mycroft,' Greg grinned. 'And you're watchin' your boyfriend, right?'

John blushed brightly and Greg chuckled.

'How's that goin', by the way?' the older teenager asked.

'It's good,' John said, a smile creeping across his face. 'We're taking it slow 'cause we're both nervous. We just kiss and hold hands, stuff like that.'

'Aww,' Greg grinned and John blushed again. Greg nudged him with his shoulder. 'That's awesome, John,' he said honestly. 'You and Sherlock are good together.'

'Thank you,' John said.

'If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask me, alright?' Greg said.

John nodded and Dimmock leaned over the short boy. 'Where the hell did you come from?'

'Your girlfriend's backseat,' Greg said and wiggled his eyebrows.

Dimmock snorted and sat back. 'As if, you tosser.'

Greg chuckled and the group settled down as more people began to file in. Mostly the debates were open to whoever wanted to attend. Baker Street's debate team was there, including Sherlock Holmes, Andy Freen, and a few other guys and girls Greg recognised from around the school. All of St Mary's was there, Lily and Alex sitting on the stage, as well as the students from Artemis Catholic School.

Greg had no idea how these debates worked; he'd never been to one himself. It looked as though three students were picked from each school to be for or against whatever subject had been chosen.

Mycroft, Andy, and Sherlock had been picked for Baker Street, with Lily, Alex and a boy with curly blonde hair for St Mary's.

The rest of the students sat at the front, some waiting patiently, others stuffing around like Greg and his mates.

Finally Father Patrick and Mrs Mallen quietened everybody down and the debate began.

The subject of the debate was introduced, with St Mary's being For and Baker Street being Against. The blonde boy from St Mary's went first and Greg zoned out completely. Beside him John was tapping at his mobile while Dimmock let his head drop back. Sally was alternating between spinning her phone in her fingers and tapping at the plastic seat she was sitting on.

Eventually- _thankfully_ \- the blonde boy's speech was done and Greg groaned. 'Finally,' he grunted. 'What was that, three hours?'

Dimmock snickered and John giggled.

Andy went next. He was a lot better than the blonde boy but Greg still found himself drifting off. Next was Lily and she made Greg pay attention by pointing out that he was snoring in the back row.

Mrs Mallen scowled at Greg but couldn't throw him out without disrupting the debate, so Greg was safe for now. Finally Mycroft stepped up to the podium and Greg whistled.

Mycroft blushed but threw Greg a smile while Mrs Mallen pointed from the door to Greg. Greg had no intention of going anywhere and sat forward to listen to his boyfriend.

Yeah, okay, Mycroft would _definitely_ make a good politician.

Greg found himself completely wrapped up in, and agreeing with, what his boyfriend was saying. The way Mycroft structured his argument, engaged the audience, and generally knew everything off the top of his head made it very, _very_ easy to agree with Baker Street.

Greg cheered and clapped loudly when Mycroft was done and the genius winked at him while Dimmock dragged Greg back into his seat.

'Knock it off, idiot,' he muttered.

'You're just jealous that I have such a hot, sexy piece of intelligence,' Greg said.

Dimmock poked his tongue out and John swatted them both.

Alex went next, and while she was good, she was nowhere near Mycroft's standard. Baker Street wrapped up the debate with Sherlock Holmes, and the younger genius held nothing back; he completely ripped apart St Mary's until Mrs Mallen forced him to end his speech after his fifth cuss word.

An hour after it had begun, the debate was over, with Baker Street winning. Greg clapped and cheered loudly, John, Dimmock, and Sally doing the same. Artemis Catholic School clapped politely while the students from St Mary's sulked and threw death stares at Sherlock.

When Mycroft joined his friends, Greg wrapped his arms around the red-head and kissed him passionately.

'That was _so_ hot,' Greg whispered in his ear.

'Gregory...' Mycroft warned, his cheeks pink.

Sherlock rolled his eyes but smiled brightly when John grabbed his hand.

'You were brilliant, Sherlock,' the short boy said.

'Of course I was,' Sherlock drawled, but Greg and Mycroft both noticed that he linked his fingers firmly with John's. They exchanged smiles as Sherlock dragged John from the hall.

Mycroft kissed Greg again before going to talk to Mrs Mallen, who was waving for him from across the hall. Dimmock was busy with Molly and Sally had disappeared, so Greg sat on a chair to wait for his partner.

Suddenly Lily jumped into the seat before him and smiled widely at Greg.

'Hey,' Greg said.

'Hello,' Lily grinned. She swung a leg back and forth, her dark blue eyes roaming over Greg's face.

'What?' Greg finally asked.

'You look... happy.'

'Do I?' Greg asked. When Lily nodded he shrugged and said, 'Well, I _am_ happy.'

'Yeah,' Lily said. 'That's 'cause of Mycroft, isn't it?'

Greg nodded and glanced across the hall. Mycroft was standing before Mrs Mallen talking and smoothing down his school uniform. A smile tugged at Greg's lips.

'You love him,' Lily stated.

'Yeah,' Greg said, 'I think I do.'

Lily's smile widened and she nodded. 'That's good, Greg. I'm glad.'

'Thanks,' Greg said and turned to her. He gave her a soft smile and Lily smiled back.


	61. Shades of Green

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver

Greg was running really, _really_ late. He hadn't dropped into bed until one, having stayed up to eat the dinner Maggie had left for him, then curled up in bed, texting his boyfriend until he'd nodded off.

Greg had awoken to his mother bashing him over the head with a pillow. So now it was nine o'clock, about twenty minutes after his first class had started, and he was running down the walkway trying to get to class.

Of course, he was supposed to go to the office first and get a late slip, but his homeroom teacher, Mrs Scottson, didn't know the difference between him and John Ralling, so usually Greg was marked as "here" as long as John was in the room.

Greg finally reached his English Lit class and glanced through the window. Mr Jambrook had his back to the class, writing something on the board, and the door was open. Greg quickly slipped in, drawing looks from half the class, but ignored them as he crept down the aisle and to the back.

He jogged across the back of the class and reached the desk Mycroft was sitting at. Mycroft quirked an eyebrow as Greg slid behind him and pecked him on the cheek.

Greg dropped into his seat-

\- just as Mr Jambrook turned around.

Greg offered the teacher a grin, trying to act like he'd always been sitting there, but Jambrook raised both eyebrows.

'Where's your late slip?' Mr Jambrook asked.

'Why would I need a late slip?' Greg asked.

Jambrook frowned. 'Because you were late, Lestrade.'

'Nah I wasn't, I was here the whole time,' Greg argued.

Mr Jambrook capped his marker before pointing at the door.

'Aww, come on,' Greg groaned, 'I'm here, aren't I?'

'Lestrade, go to the front office and get a late slip,' Mr Jambrook ordered.

'But-'

' _Now_!'

'Fine,' Greg huffed dramatically. He stood, kissed Mycroft on the lips- earning catcalls from Sally, BJ, and half the class- and scowled at Mr Jambrook before stomping out the door.

When Greg got to the front office, the lady sitting behind the desk wrote his arrival time as "9:15am".

'I got here at nine!' Greg said.

The woman, Mrs Marnie, raised an eyebrow and pointed at the clock on the wall.

'Yeah, but I went to class, and Mr Jambrook sent me here,' Greg said.

'Well you should have come here first,' Marnie said as she filled out the pink slip. She turned it around and said, 'Write your reason for being late.'

Greg cursed and grabbed the pen she offered. Suddenly feeling bitchy, he wrote "My character on Grand Theft Auto got beat up by a hooker and I needed to be there for him" in the area indicated before giving the piece of paper back.

Mrs Marnie went to sign it but caught the words Greg had written. 'Mr Lestrade, this isn't funny,' she snapped.

'I reckon it is,' Greg grinned.

She pushed the paper back. 'Write the _real_ reason.'

'That _is_ the real reason!'

She wasn't going to back down so Greg scribbled out the answer and wrote a new one; "Muse said you will not force me".

Again, Mrs Marnie was less than amused. She tore the paper away from Greg, who'd added little love-hearts in the corners, and filled out a fresh one. Greg's time of arrival was now listed as "9:23" and Greg whined.

'Come on, that ain't fair!'

'When you stop screwing around you can go to class,' Mrs Marnie snapped.

But Greg would _never_ be done screwing around, so wrote, "I was screwing around SO HARD that I forgot what time it was. Well, I was always taught to be a gentleman, so the guy I was screwing around WITH stayed and I made him breakfast. We had pancakes; it was lovely".

Unfortunately it seemed Greg had pushed the woman too far and she shot off her chair. Greg watched as she rounded the front table and disappeared into the head teacher's office, which was just down the hall.

'Christ,' Greg groaned.

About two minutes later, Mrs Marnie came back with Mr Rourke. Greg tried a charming grin but the man just shook his head and picked up the two pink slips Greg had ruined.

'Do you think this is funny, Mr Lestrade?' the Headmaster asked.

'Um...'

'It isn't,' Mr Rourke scowled.

_Why ask if he's just gonna answer?_ Greg thought.

'Detention today after school,' Mr Rourke said.

'I can't, I have work,' Greg said. 'I need the money.'

'Well you should have thought about-'

'No, I really need the money,' Greg interrupted the Headmaster. 'Mum doesn't make that much and I like to help.'

He put on his best puppy-dog eyes, hoping the mention of his single mum, trying to raise a son, would win Mr Rourke over.

Finally the head teacher sighed and said, 'Tomorrow morning, I want you here at six. You'll pick up rubbish, understand?'

'Sir, yes, sir!' Greg saluted.

'Fill this out properly,' Mr Rourke said and grabbed a fresh late slip. Greg decided not to push his luck and wrote "slept in". Mr Rourke filled the rest of the slip out and handed it to Greg.

As he was leaving, Greg grabbed the other two slips. He thought about hanging them up at home as he walked back to English Lit.

When he got back to class, Mr Jambrook smirked at him and signed the late slip. Greg pouted all the way back to his desk, even when Mycroft kissed his cheek.

'Are you okay?' the red-head asked.

'Fine,' Greg sighed. 'But I reckon all teachers are out to get me.'

'Of course,' Mycroft said with a serious voice. 'They have meetings every Tuesday.'

'I bet they do,' Greg insisted.

'Gregory, you were late,' Mycroft said, 'that's hardly a teacher's fault.' He paused. 'Unless a teacher is specifically responsible for you being late?'

'No,' Greg shook his head. 'I just stayed up too late and slept in.' Mycroft pursed his lips and Greg turned to him. 'What? What's wrong?'

'I kept you up,' Mycroft murmured.

'What?'

'We were texting,' Mycroft elaborated. 'It was late and you spent all afternoon stacking shelves. I shouldn't have kept you up.'

Mr Jambrook told them to be quiet and Mycroft stared pointedly at his notebook. Greg waited until the teacher's back was turned before whispering to his boyfriend.

'It's not your fault, Mycroft. I could have said I needed sleep, but I didn't, 'cause I wanted to talk to you. That's worth being late.'

Mycroft didn't answer and Greg grabbed his hand. He laced their fingers together and Mycroft's blue eyes flicked to him.

'Honestly, Myc, it's not your fault,' Greg repeated.

'Are you sure?'

'Yup,' Greg nodded. 'Next time I'll just go to bed at a decent hour, alright?' He brought their joined hands up and kissed Mycroft's knuckles. 'I don't blame you.'

Mycroft smiled and leaned over to press a soft, gentle kiss to Greg's lips.

'Are you two joined at the hip or something?' Mr Jambrook demanded.

Mycroft and Greg broke apart and turned to see Mr Jambrook standing beside their desk. Most of the class had turned their way and Sally was snickering.

'Um... no?' Greg tried.

Mr Jambrook sighed. 'Do I have to separate you two?'

'No,' Mycroft said.

'Muse said you will not force us!' Greg shouted and waved one of his other late slips. A few people laughed and Mr Jambrook rolled his eyes.

'Calm down, Lestrade,' the teacher muttered and went back to the front of the class.

'See?' Greg turned to Mycroft. 'Muse was right.'

Mycroft smiled.

 

{oOo}

 

Lunch finally rolled around and Greg was starving. He hadn't eaten since dinner the night before, so he bought a sandwich, a bag of crisps, a chocolate bar, and a bottle of coke. He met up with Lily, Alex and Molly while he was walking across the grass area towards the set of picnic tables that lined the back fence.

Mycroft and Dimmock were already sitting at Greg's preferred picnic table, the genius reading a book and picking at a salad, while Dimmock was stuffing his face with cold pizza.

He kissed Molly hello, the girl sitting beside him and unwrapping her lunch. Lily had started a conversation about some TV show Greg didn't watch with Alex, despite the fact that Alex had her own book out, nose crammed into it.

Greg beamed as he popped onto the wooden seat beside Mycroft.

'Hello,' Mycroft greeted without looking up.

'Hey there, gorgeous,' Greg said and leaned across to peck him on the lips. Mycroft smiled. 'What are you doing sitting here?' Greg asked. 'Don't you normally go to the library?'

'I've finished my homework,' Mycroft said, eyes still on the novel he was reading. 'I decided to have a smoke and get some fresh air while also spending time with you.'

'But you're reading.'

'I'm still talking to you,' Mycroft pointed out.

Greg laughed and ripped his crisp packet open. 'Fair enough,' he said as he tossed a handful of crisps into his mouth. Greg's lunchtimes _before_ Mycroft were usually spent fucking around with Dimmock, Joe and Dylan at the smokers' corner. Lunchtime _after_ Mycroft was spent at the library.

Except recently, since they'd started dating officially- and since Dylan's spat- Mycroft had been joining them outside, either here or at the smokers' corner. Greg was glad; he didn't want to abandon Dimmock just because he had a boyfriend. This way they could all hang out _and_ Greg could get some snogging in.

Greg had just finished his crisps and turned to get that snogging started when suddenly three students from Artemis Catholic School approached. Lily, as the outgoing, insane individual she was, immediately shouted, 'Hello, what can I do for you?' like she was working at McDonalds.

The only girl cleared her throat nervously and said, 'Um, we were wondering if we could sit here?'

'There's nowhere else,' the boy to her right added.

'Not a problem!' Lily said and jumped to her feet. She moved around the table before unceremoniously shoving Greg aside.

Greg, who had been sprawled across almost half the long wooden seat, yelped as he collided with his boyfriend. 'Watch it, Hooper!' he snapped.

'Move it or lose it, Greggie!' Lily grinned and shoved him again.

After some manhandling- a _lot_ of manhandling- Greg ended up on the edge of the seat with Mycroft in his lap, the three students from Artemis' sitting beside him. Molly, Dimmock, Lily and Alex were crammed into the seat opposite, and neither Mycroft nor Alex had looked up from their novels at the sudden game of "musical chairs".

Greg wrapped his arms around Mycroft's waist and settled his head against his partner's back. Mycroft was very warm, and the weather was getting progressively colder as it approached Christmas. Greg wondered if it would snow- if he and Mycroft could curl up under the blankets on the 25th with hot chocolate and watch stupid movies...

_Or curl up and have happy-fun-naked-times,_ Greg thought with a smile.

Everyone had gone back to their lunch- Mycroft and Alex still absorbed with their books- and Greg was having a fun time using his memories to shed Mycroft of his clothes and have his wicked way with the genius.

Greg didn't realise his boyfriend was being stared at until Mycroft suddenly cleared his throat and said, 'Can I help you?'

Greg opened his eyes to see the guy sitting next to him staring at Mycroft with large hazel eyes. He immediately blushed when he realised he'd been caught and cleared his throat.

'Um... sorry.'

Mycroft bookmarked his page, flipping the novel shut, and rested it on the wooden table as he raised an eyebrow at the Artemis student.

'Sorry,' the guy repeated, 'but we, ah, met at a party a few weeks ago.'

Mycroft blinked. 'We did?'

'Yeah,' the guy nodded.

'Aaron!' the girl sitting beside him hissed.

The guy- Aaron- was blushing a darker shade of red now that all eyes were on him. Mycroft had his head tilted, blue eyes roaming over the guy slowly. Finally he said, 'I don't remember you.'

'Uh, well, you were pretty drunk,' Aaron said. 'We talked for about an hour and you had, like, eight beers. And you were a bit tipsy when you got to the party.'

Greg scowled and looked at Mycroft. 'When was this?'

'I don't remember,' Mycroft repeated.

Greg looked at Aaron, who said, 'Um... about two months ago? Maybe less.'

Greg frowned. He and Mycroft had been dating almost two months... since early November...

'Wait,' Greg said when he remembered Mycroft turning up at his place completely wasted. 'Was this early November?'

'Yeah,' Aaron nodded.

'Where was the party?' Greg asked.

Aaron frowned a bit, eyes growing distant as he thought. 'Matt Sanders' house,' he finally said. 'One of the guys on your football team.'

Greg exchanged a look with Mycroft; the genius definitely remembered _now_.

'I see,' Mycroft hummed.

'Nothing happened,' Aaron said. 'Well, I mean... I _wanted_ something to happen,' he admitted. 'But when I kissed you, you pushed me off and said you were seeing someone.'

'You did _what_?' Greg snarled and almost threw Mycroft from his lap as he tried to stand.

The genius stumbled to his feet and quickly turned to stop Greg moving. 'Gregory, stop it.'

'I didn't do anything, I swear!' Aaron said, holding his hands up in a clear surrender gesture. 'I thought he was cute but when I tried to move things along he said he was spoken for!'

Greg rounded on Mycroft.

'It was that party I went to, when we were... fighting,' Mycroft said as he remembered bits and pieces of the evening in question. 'I got drunk because I was upset.'

'And... and he... _kissed_ you?' Greg demanded.

'I... think so?' Mycroft tried.

Greg scowled and turned to glare at Aaron.

'He said he had a boyfriend,' Aaron said.

Greg paused. He and Mycroft hadn't started dating until the day _after_ the party.

Still, that didn't give this... this _stranger_ a right to kiss Mycroft!

Greg growled and glared at Aaron again. 'Why'd you kiss him when he was obviously hammered?'

'I was drunk too!' Aaron huffed.

'Ooh, _so_ not an excuse,' Dimmock muttered. Either side of him, Lily and Molly nodded, while Alex hadn't even looked up from her book.

'I kissed him, he pushed me away and said he had a boyfriend, then he left,' Aaron continued. 'I didn't even get a name, alright?'

Greg growled again but before he could move Mycroft had grabbed his arm and spun him so they were face-to-face.

'Gregory, it was weeks ago,' Mycroft said, 'and we weren't technically together yet.'

'You kissed him,' Greg said.

'No, _he_ kissed _me_ ,' Mycroft corrected. Greg grunted. 'I pushed him away because I wanted you. I turned up at yours afterwards, didn't I?'

Greg scowled but didn't say anything; Mycroft was right, after all. He _had_ turned up at Greg's, and he'd admitted to fancying Greg for years. If it wasn't for that it would have taken Greg longer to ask Mycroft out; maybe weeks, _months_.

And, _technically_ , they hadn't been dating when this Aaron Who-Cares-About-His-Lastname had snogged Mycroft. And, of course, Mycroft hadn't kissed back.

Greg let out a long breath and closed his eyes as he tried to reign in his anger and jealousy. He wondered if he'd ever stop feeling jealous.

'Gregory?' Mycroft asked hesitantly.

Greg opened his eyes slowly to see Mycroft staring at him, confusion and slight fear clouding his own blue eyes. Greg turned to glare at Aaron and growled out, 'He's taken, alright? So no more kissing or flirting or... anything!'

'Yeah, 'course not,' Aaron was quick to say. He stood and said, 'Um... I'll be going.'

He and the other two from Artemis' made their escape and all eyes turned to Greg and Mycroft.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft said.

'S'not your fault,' Greg dismissed. 'We weren't together.'

'Well... in a certain way, we were,' Mycroft said and smiled slightly.

'Yeah,' Greg laughed, 'I was just too stubborn to admit it.'

Mycroft hesitated before looping his arms around Greg's waist. Greg let himself get dragged forward and into a warm hug.

'I'm sorry,' Greg muttered into his boyfriend's ear. 'I was just jealous.'

'It's fine,' Mycroft assured him. 'But just so you know, I haven't been with anyone else since I first kissed you.'

Greg drew back to look at him. 'Yeah?'

'Yes,' Mycroft confirmed with a nod.

Greg grinned and closed the distance between them to capture Mycroft's lips in a bruising, possessive kiss. Mycroft groaned and kissed back while he pushed Greg to sit back at the table. He straddled Greg's lap and wrapped his arms around the brunette's neck, while Greg's hands rested on his hips, fingers digging in firmly.

'Oh, look, they've made up,' Dimmock snorted.

'Aww,' Lily beamed and clapped her hands together. Molly just smiled and dragged Dimmock up so they could sit back on Greg's side of the table.

When Greg moaned rather loudly, a sound that was quickly swallowed by Mycroft's mouth, Alex blinked and looked up from her book to see the snogging couple.

'What did I miss?' she asked.

Dimmock and Molly just smiled and Lily said, 'Oh, Alex, you miss _all_ the good stuff!'


	62. Still Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Still Waiting by Sum 41

That afternoon, Greg had a free period last and Mycroft skipped his last class to take Greg home. He also planned to drive Greg to work so they could spend a few extra minutes together.

Mr Holmes was still away on business and Sherlock had promised to cover with their mother. There was only one downside; 'Sherlock wants me to take him to the beach.'

Greg frowned and looked up. He was lying on his stomach on the bed doing his homework and Mycroft was at Greg's desk doing the same. They only had forty minutes until Greg had to go to work and Greg had decided to get his homework out of the way so he and Mycroft could spend tomorrow afternoon having fun.

'Why would a pasty bloke like Sherlock wanna go to the beach?' Greg asked.

'An experiment,' Mycroft shrugged. 'I won't bore you with the details.'

'M'kay...' Greg hummed. 'So, when are we going?'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow as he turned to look at his partner. 'Excuse me?'

'I might as well go too,' Greg shrugged. 'I can help you look after Sherlock and John- I'm assuming John's going?'

'He is,' Mycroft nodded. 'You'd really come to the beach with me? Even though it's too cold to swim?'

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'I don't mind. We can have lunch and stuff.'

'Okay,' Mycroft smiled, 'thank you. We'll probably be going early next year when it begins to get a bit warmer.'

Greg grinned and went back to his homework while Mycroft looked over his own.

'Your room is disgusting, did you know that?' Mycroft commented about ten minutes later.

Greg looked up to see his boyfriend toeing a blue shirt that was on the floor. 'Is not,' Greg huffed.

'Yes, it is,' Mycroft said. He hooked the shirt around his leather shoe and lifted it. 'This was here the last time I was over. And the time before that, _and_ the time before that, _and_ -'

'I get it,' Greg interrupted.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow as he let the article of clothing drop back to the floorboards. 'We have these things called washing machines, Gregory,' he said and Greg rolled his eyes. 'You put your clothing in there with a type of soap and the machine washes your clothes.'

'I know that,' Greg grumbled and scowled at the shirt.

'So why don't you use one?' Mycroft asked.

'Um...' Greg hummed. 'Well, ya see, I _did_ wash that shirt- twice, in fact, since you first saw it- and I placed it in the _exact_ same spot 'cause that's where that shirt belongs.'

Mycroft snorted. 'You're an idiot.'

'That's its _home_ , Mycroft!' Greg said, acting outraged. 'Who am I to deny that shirt its rightful place?'

Mycroft shook his head and looked around the room; at the various articles of clothing, books, DVDs and other odds and ends Greg had left scattered about. 'I suppose all of those things are in their rightful place?'

'Well, _duh_ ,' Greg said. 'The shirt needs mates and family. I can't break up a family, Mycroft!'

'You're an idiot,' Mycroft repeated.

Greg leapt off his bed and dropped to the floorboards. He grabbed the shirt Mycroft had played with and the pair of jeans lying in a crumpled heap beside it. 'See this?' he asked. 'This is _love_ , Mycroft, true love!'

A smile tugged at Mycroft's lips as he watched Greg press the shirt and jeans together.

'A true, deep, passionate love that- oi, stop that!' Greg mashed the two pieces of clothing together and waved them about. 'See? Can't keep off each other.'

Mycroft couldn't stop the burst of laughter that escaped his lips.

'Get off!' Greg shouted and threw his shirt and jeans across the room. He slid across the wooden floor on his knees and grabbed a battered copy of To _Kill A Mockingbird_ and a Coca-Cola yo-yo. 'I don't care if you don't accept their love!' Greg told Mycroft, his face a picture of seriousness. 'Who cares if one's a book and one's a toy? They deserve happiness!'

He started smacking the yo-yo against the book before using the rope to tie them together. The book and yo-yo were thrown at the desk and Mycroft had to move to avoid getting hit. Next Greg grabbed a small stuffed wolf toy and a pen.

'Mr Pen loves Balto,' Greg stated, making the pen bounce against the wolf. He let out a high pitched, ' _I love you, Balto_!' and once again started making rude gestures.

'Stop it!' Mycroft ordered, words muffled by the hand against his mouth. He couldn't stop giggling and Greg grinned.

He threw the wolf and pen aside and grabbed a _Doctor Who_ pillow his mum had made him when he was ten. He hit Mycroft in the leg.

'Ow,' the genius scowled.

'Doctor Who pillow loves you,' Greg grinned.

'No it doesn't.'

'Yah-ha, it does,' Greg nodded. He slid closer and rubbed Mycroft's leg slowly with the pillow. 'Don't be afraid, Mycroft, Doctor Who pillow won't bite.'

'Gregory...'

'Is it 'cause he's a pillow?' Greg demanded and scowled up at his partner. 'Don't judge a pillow by its print!'

Greg smacked Mycroft in the stomach and the red-head grabbed the pillow. Greg held on tightly as they fought over it until Mycroft was dragged from his seat. He fell atop Greg and they both breathed heavily as they looked at each other.

'Nom-nom-nom,' Greg hummed as he pressed the pillow against Mycroft's face.

Mycroft finally managed to wrench it free and stuffed it under Greg's head. Greg smiled up at him as Mycroft said, 'You're insane.'

'Um... yeah, little bit,' Greg nodded with a grin.

Mycroft smiled and leaned down to press his lips gently against Greg's. Greg eagerly returned the kiss until they were making out heavily, Mycroft resting his forearms either side of Greg's head, Greg with his arms and legs wrapped tight around his partner.

When they finally broke apart Greg panted out, 'Oh, so it's fine to snog on my bedroom floor?' Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'Oh, I see,' Greg grinned, 'you can't date the pillow 'cause you're with the floor.'

'You're ridiculous.'

'I respect your love!' Greg shouted and pulled Mycroft closer. 'Don't be ashamed!'

Mycroft laughed and tried to pull himself free, but Greg held on tight. Mycroft continued to struggle for a few minutes before going still. When he did Greg looked up at him.

Mycroft smiled and leaned down. He gently brushed his lips against Greg's.

'What?' Greg asked. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing,' Mycroft shook his head. 'Not a damn thing.'

Greg smiled as Mycroft leaned down to kiss him again.

 

{oOo}

 

'Are you sure you don't need a lift home?' Mycroft asked. He'd just pulled into the Tesco carpark and faced Greg as he turned the engine off.

'Nah, Daisuke's gonna give me a lift home. He lives a few streets from me.'

A frown ghosted Mycroft's face as he asked, 'Daisuke?'

'Yeah, we went to primary school together,' Greg explained. 'He goes to Artemis Catholic School now and works with me at Tesco.'

'I see...' Mycroft mused.

Greg stared at him for a few seconds before grinning. 'Are you jealous?'

'What?' Mycroft snapped. 'Of course not. Don't be ridiculous.' He pulled his door open and quickly stepped from the car. Greg scrambled out after him and grinned over the roof of the car. 'I'm not jealous,' Mycroft insisted.

'Yeah you are,' Greg laughed. 'But don't worry, Daisuke's completely straight. And I'm in a very nice committed relationship with the sexiest boy in all of England.'

Mycroft paused from where he was lighting a cigarette. Greg lit his own and Mycroft slowly stood tall, smoke spilling from his mouth. 'Sexiest boy in all of England?' he echoed.

'Oh yeah,' Greg nodded and walked around the car. He grinned at Mycroft and kissed his cheek. 'Definitely. And that's even _with_ your clothes on.'

Mycroft smiled and kissed Greg softly. 'Good.'

'I think it's brilliant,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft's smile widened slightly.

'Seriously, Mycroft,' Greg continued, 'Daisuke's just a friend.'

'Are you sure?' Mycroft demanded. He was finding it difficult to ignore his jealousy.

Greg chuckled and wrapped his arms around Mycroft's waist. 'Serious,' he repeated, 'just a mate. Besides, he knows I'm spoken for.' Greg let his eyes roam up and down Mycroft's body. 'He knows you're my love-muffin, my Mikey-bear.'

A scowl spread across Mycroft's face as he growled, ' _Never_ call me that again.'

'What?' the brunette asked innocently. 'Love-muffin? Or Mikey-bear?'

They fell into silence, Greg grinning like an idiot and Mycroft still scowling. Suddenly an evil smirk spread across the red-head's face and Greg blinked rapidly.

'Er... Mycroft?'

'What?' Mycroft asked in a soft, warm tone while he began backing Greg towards the Jag.

'I know that look.'

'What look?'

'The evil look you're sporting right now,' Greg said as he was forced to step backwards. 'Whatever you have planned, _stop_.'

'I'm not doing anything.'

'Mycroft!' Greg huffed. He suddenly found himself pressed against the genius' Jag, Mycroft's body keeping him pinned to the cool metal. Their crotches were pressed together and Greg had to bite back a moan and a wave of arousal as Mycroft rolled his hips. 'M-Mycroft,' he tried and looked up into his partner's brilliant blue eyes.

Mycroft smirked.

Before Greg could react, the genius' fingers had moved from his hips to his sides. He squealed as Mycroft's fingers dug into him, tickling him through his work shirt.

Mycroft laughed and kept Greg pinned with his legs, fighting to keep Greg where he was as the older boy twisted, slapped, and shrieked trying to escape.

'No!' Greg laughed. 'M-Mercy, please!'

'Nope,' Mycroft grunted.

'Un-Uncle!' Greg shouted. 'Uncle, uncle, un-un- _unnncccllleee_!'

When Greg started gasping for breath Mycroft finally stopped, and the taller boy grinned as his boyfriend slumped against him, body shaking.

'You f-fucker,' Greg groaned.

'You deserved it,' Mycroft said.

'Did not!' Greg whined.

Mycroft chuckled and dipped down to press a gentle kiss to Greg's lips. Greg's fingers quickly laced through his hair, keeping Mycroft in place as he deepened the kiss. They didn't break apart until Mycroft too was gasping for air.

'Did I deserve that?' Mycroft asked.

'Oh yeah,' Greg grinned and pecked him on the lips. 'Now come have a smoke with me before I go to work.'

Mycroft smiled, locked his car, and followed Greg through the carpark and up to the entrance of Tesco. They leaned against the wall near the front doors and lit cigarettes, Greg still grinning at his boyfriend. Mycroft took a long drag of his cigarette and Greg leaned against him, the two sharing each other's body heat as they blew smoke above their heads.

They were chatting softly, trying to get in as much time as possible before Greg had to go to work, when someone called out, 'Hello there!'

The couple looked up to see Dimmock walking towards them, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

'Hey, Dimmo,' Greg smiled. 'What are you doin' here?'

'Shopping with Dad,' Dimmock told him.

Greg looked over his mate's shoulder to see Ryan Dimmock walking up the concrete towards them. He scowled when he saw Greg.

''Lo, Mr Dimmock,' Greg grinned broadly, blowing smoke above his head. 'How are you this fine afternoon?'

Dimmock rolled his eyes while his dad said, 'Hello, Gregory.'

Mycroft snorted softly beside his boyfriend and Mr Dimmock's eyes turned to the red-head. 'Oh, I didn't introduce you properly last time you met,' Greg said. 'This is Mycroft Holmes.'

'Yes, I know,' Mr Dimmock grunted. 'You're Siger's eldest boy.'

Mycroft inclined his head but said nothing more, instead focusing on the ground as he smoked.

'I didn't know you smoked,' Mr Dimmock said and looked at Greg.

'Yes, well,' Mycroft just shrugged.

Greg wanted to scowl at the man. Mr Dimmock was acting like it was Greg's fault Mycroft smoked. No doubt the man thought it was; Greg was a "bad sort", after all. Being gay made you the devil in Mr Dimmock's eyes. Greg probably didn't help by smoking, drinking, and acting like a lunatic whenever he saw his best mate's dad.

'Everyone has their vices,' Mycroft finally continued and again shrugged one shoulder, his features set on cold as he looked at Mr Dimmock.

The man just grunted and turned to his son. 'Come on.'

'Right,' Dimmock said, watching his dad enter the store. He sighed and said, 'Sorry about that.'

'You don't control your old man,' Greg said.

'Yeah, sometimes I wish I did,' Dimmock said. 'Anyway, I'll see you later.'

Greg and Mycroft both nodded and watched Dimmock trail after his father. 'Dimmo's dad's such a wanker,' Greg muttered.

'I've met him before,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah, at Dimmo's.'

'No, he's been to the Manor a few times,' Mycroft told his boyfriend, who looked at him curiously. 'He does business with my father on occasion.'

'Oh, right,' Greg nodded. Siger Holmes owned half the town; of course he'd do business with Mr Dimmock, who was a solicitor for various banks and shops throughout their neighbourhood. 'Does your dad talk to him about you?'

'Not really,' Mycroft said. 'He brags sometimes when the situation calls for it; stating what a wonderful father he is, how he's brought Sherlock and I up to be the best we can be.' He snorted and flicked ash from the end of his cigarette. 'Anything to make more money.'

Greg leaned across and pecked Mycroft on the cheek. 'Forget him, eh?' he said and nudged Mycroft's shoulder. Mycroft smiled in response and finished his cigarette. 'I should get going,' Greg sighed when he'd finished his own. 'God, I hate work.'

'Well if you ever want to quit and be a stay-at-home wife, I'll take care of you,' Mycroft smirked cheekily.

'Why, Mr Holmes, you _do_ know the way to a young man's heart,' Greg swooned and draped his arms over Mycroft's shoulders.

Mycroft chuckled and have him a soft kiss. 'I'll buy you pretty things,' he promised.

'Mm, sounds lovely,' Greg said. 'And I'll stay at home with the Little Mycroft's, and have dinner on the table when you finish work.'

'What a beautiful life we're creating together,' Mycroft commented.

Greg laughed and kissed him again before letting his partner go. 'Right, well I gotta get going. I'll see you at school tomorrow?'

'Text me when you get home, okay?' Mycroft asked.

'Promise,' Greg nodded. Mycroft gave him another kiss. 'Now get outta here before I drag you off for a quickie.'

'You're disgusting,' Mycroft said and leaned close to whisper in Greg's ear. 'I love it.'

Greg shivered and pushed Mycroft away. 'Go!'

Mycroft smiled and squeezed Greg's hand before heading back towards his car, Greg smiling as he watched.

 

{oOo}

 

Mycroft didn't go home right away. Sherlock texted to warn him that Mother was going to call, and when she did Mycroft made up a story about some last minute studying with BJ Masters. He grabbed some Thai for dinner and ate at the takeaway place before heading home, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that the house was dark. It was almost midnight, Meghan Holmes would have been in bed, and Sherlock was no doubt in his room running various experiments or reading.

Mycroft parked in the garage and walked around the house. He slipped into the kitchen and made his way across the room and then through the house. He'd just reached the stairs when a light in the sitting room flicked on, making the teenager pause.

He turned when he saw movement and wondered if maybe his mother _was_ awake. Or, more likely, Mrs Hudson or Mr Andrew were waiting up to see he got home safe.

Instead it was Siger Holmes who walked out of the sitting room, a glass tumbler filled with amber liquid in one hand. His suit was wrinkled, the tie pulled down, and a scowl was set firmly in place.

'Father!' Mycroft gaped. Siger wasn't supposed to be back yet; he was supposed to be away on business. And he never sat in the sitting room, the lights off, just _waiting_ for Mycroft to appear.

'What fucking time do you call this?' Siger snarled. He drained the tumbler and set it down on the table closest to him before he stomped across the room towards his son. The scent of bourbon hit Mycroft before his father reached him and made his stomach jolt.

'I-' Mycroft tried but his father grabbed his arm, pulling him forward. Mycroft hissed in pain as the taller man's fingers closed tightly around his wrist.

'Ryan Dimmock saw you at Tesco, _smoking_ , and hanging around that faggot Lestrade!' Siger growled.

Mycroft felt anger race through him at his father's words. How _dare_ he call Greg a faggot!

'What have I taught you, huh?' Siger demanded. His fingers tightened on Mycroft's wrist and again Mycroft hissed in pain, trying to wrench his arm free.

'Father-'

'You have an image to maintain!' Siger interrupted, spit flying from his mouth and making Mycroft cringe. 'You're a Holmes, Mycroft, not some fucking idiot who can do whatever he wants! You have an _image_ , Mycroft, a _fucking_ image! And hanging around filth like Greg Lestrade will damage that!'

'He's my friend,' Mycroft said and tried to pull himself free. His fingers were going numb while his wrist and arm throbbed. His father's fingers dug further into him and he winced. 'Father, please let me go.'

Siger shook him roughly and Mycroft bit his tongue trying to hold in another pained gasp. 'What makes you think you can do what you want?' Siger demanded.

'N-Nothing.'

Siger grabbed Mycroft's jacket and dug through his pocket with one hand. When he pulled back he was holding a packet of cigarettes. 'You think you can just do what you want, huh?' Siger asked. 'Think you can walk around, smoking underage in _public_ , and not have that affect the standing of this family? Do you ever think about anyone other than yourself?'

'My arm,' Mycroft whimpered and took a step back. But his father went with him and smacked Mycroft's face with the cigarette packet.

'Tell me why the fuck you think you can do this!' Siger roared.

'Mr Holmes!'

Siger and Mycroft both turned, the latter with pain in his eyes, the former with a body rigid in fury.

Mrs Hudson and Mr Andrew were both standing in the doorway, both looking furious but trying to keep their anger in check.

'This is none of your concern,' Siger snarled. His bourbon-laced breath made Mycroft feel sick to his stomach.

'You're hurting him, _sir_ ,' Mr Andrew said.

Siger blinked and looked down at where he was gripping Mycroft's wrist. He let his son go and Mycroft backed up, wincing and rubbing at his arm.

Realising he wouldn't be able to bully his son any longer that night, Siger crushed the packet of cigarettes in his fist and threw them at Mycroft, hitting him in the face.

Mycroft flinched as Siger snarled, 'Pick those up and get the fuck out of my sight!'

Mycroft quickly scooped the ruined packet up and left as quickly as possible. He broke into a run on the stairs and didn't stop until he'd closed and locked his bedroom door. Standing there, Mycroft breathed in and out heavily. His entire body shook as he tried to come to grips with what had just happened.

His father had never got that _violent_ before. He'd shouted, he'd shaken Mycroft, he'd even slapped him once. But he'd never looked like he'd actually really hurt his son.

It sent fear through Mycroft's body and he shook his head violently before tossing the ruined cigarettes in his bin. He disappeared into his secret room briefly to grab another packet and raced out onto the balcony.

Lighting his cigarette with shaky fingers, Mycroft inhaled deeply. Smoke curled above his head as Mycroft took another quick drag. The nicotine was doing nothing to calm him down; his heart beat quickly and his skin prickled and crawled. He felt overheated, like he was trying to jump out of his skin.

Mycroft didn't want to be afraid of his father. He knew he was physically stronger. He had blackbelts in numerous fighting styles. If his father tried to hurt him, Mycroft could easily beat him.

But that didn't stop the fear curling through his body. It didn't stop the shaking in his hands, the way his skin burned and his muscles ached. Mycroft closed his eyes tightly as he sat heavily at the small table on his balcony. He took repeated drags of his cigarette until it burnt out, and then he lit another one.

Ash dropped along Mycroft's jacket sleeve as he unconsciously scratched at his inner-elbow. It was a habit he'd had when he shot-up cocaine and when Mycroft realised what he was doing he wrenched his hand away.

_No,_ he told himself firmly, angrily. _You don't need drugs, you _don't _need them! You can handle this, it'll be fine.___

__Mycroft took another deep breath, followed by a long drag of his cigarette. His fingers twitched again but he placed his hand firmly on the table._ _

___You don't need cocaine,_ he repeated to himself over and over again._ _

__Mycroft rolled his head, neck cracking, as he tried to force what had just happened from his mind. Usually his father would quickly forget whatever had bothered him; Mycroft wasn't important enough for Siger to dwell on for long._ _

__Briefly Mycroft considered calling Greg and telling him what had happened. But that would mean admitting that he hadn't even tried to stop his father twisting his arm. And then Greg would be upset, he'd want to shout and hurl shit at Siger._ _

__Mycroft shook his head again and finished his second cigarette. He wasn't going to get any sleep; past experiences told him that he'd be up all night, trying to calm himself and playing down how much it hurt to hear his father lash out at him._ _

__Crushing his cigarette out, Mycroft stood and went back into his room. When he came back it was with a six pack of beer that he sat on the table. It was freezing cold but Mycroft didn't care. He just sat and tossed back beer after beer, cigarette after cigarette, until he was too numb to feel._ _


	63. No Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** No Reason by Sum 41

Breakfast the next morning was strained. Sherlock instantly picked up on the tension and glanced between his brother and father repeatedly, shooting Mycroft confused looks, his father daggers. Anthea too realised something was wrong and tried to catch Mycroft's eye. Meghan was oblivious as usual, chattering away like an annoying bird as Mr Andrew served breakfast. The Holmes employee rested a warm, supportive hand on Mycroft's shoulder when he passed the red-head, but Mycroft ignored him.

Mycroft kept his eyes on his plate, trying to put at least a little food away. But his stomach roiled from the beer he'd drank and then thrown up the night before. Anger, fear, and disgust made his fingers tighten around his fork and knife, and he wanted to hurl something at his father, preferably a chair or the entire table.

The emotions warring inside Mycroft made his head hurt and his entire body tense. Mycroft was _scared_ of his father, which made no sense. Mycroft could take care of himself; he didn't need Siger Holmes for anything.

But the man was still his father. He was still the person who'd screamed and loomed over Mycroft when the red-head had been younger, smaller, too weak to fight back. He was still the man who looked at Mycroft with cold grey eyes, with absolutely no love or respect in them.

And it made Mycroft physically ill to once again be reminded that his father didn't care for him.

As soon as Meghan folded her napkin on the table, Mycroft was off, muttering about homework and the debate team; anything to get out of the house, out of the atmosphere that was slowly crushing him. He'd already been out to his car earlier, his bag and other things placed in the boot, so he took off before Sherlock could catch up with him.

Usually Mycroft would offer Sherlock a lift, but he didn't want his little brother to find out what had happened. It was Mycroft's job to protect Sherlock, to be the stronger brother, to take care of him and keep him safe. He couldn't do that if Sherlock knew that Siger Holmes had shaken the red-head up so much.

Mycroft knew he couldn't run forever. Sooner or later Sherlock or Anthea would corner him and get the truth. Or they'd ask Mr Andrew and Mrs Hudson. Mycroft's fingers flexed on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, and he breathed in and out heavily.

He really didn't want to go to school today. He just... he just wanted to go to sleep. Mycroft stopped at a red light and his right hand unconsciously moved to his inner-elbow, scratching at the skin beneath his blazer and shirt. When he realised what he was doing he swore and slammed his hands against the wheel.

'I don't fucking need drugs,' he seethed to himself. 'Get it together, Mycroft!'

Breathing in and out heavily, Mycroft stepped on the pedal when the light flicked to green.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg sat fidgeting in English Lit. It was twenty minutes into the class and Mycroft still hadn't shown up. His car hadn't been in the car park when Greg had checked after first period, and the texts he'd sent to his boyfriend remained unanswered. He'd even tried calling but had got Mycroft's voicemail; " _This is Mycroft Holmes; you know what to do._ "

Greg could only hope that his partner had either slept in or was sick. But he kept wondering if maybe something was wrong; maybe Mycroft was hurt, or in trouble, or... Greg's over-active imagination was throwing up all kinds of scenarios, each worse than the first.

He was just about vibrating out of his seat with nervous energy when there was a knock on the door, making Mr Jambrook cut himself off mid-sentence. 

It was Matt Sanders, and he offered Mr Jambrook a polite smile as the teacher said, 'Can I help you?'

'Mr Rourke wants to see Greg Lestrade,' Matt said. Mr Jambrook looked at Greg, who gulped. He didn't think he'd done anything lately to warrant a meeting with the Headmaster. 'With his things, sir,' Matt added.

Mr Jambrook nodded and gestured at Greg, who quickly swept his books and pens into his bag before standing. Most of the class were staring at him, only Sally and BJ looking slightly worried.

When they got outside, the classroom door shut behind them, Greg asked, 'What's Mr Rourke want?'

'Nothin',' Matt shrugged and started walking. Greg hurried to catch up. 'I'm doin' a favour for Mikey.'

'Mikey?' Greg questioned. 'Is he okay? Where is he?'

'Told me to tell you to meet him in the car park,' Matt said. 'S'all I know, Lestrade.'

Greg nodded and hurried off, ignoring the, ' _So_ whipped!' Matt shot after him. He took the stairs two at a time and burst onto the walkway near the science block before taking off at a quick jog.

He passed the quad and boys toilets before turning left, past the theatre and hall, and out across the grass area. He could see Mycroft leaning against his Jaguar near the gates of the car park and frowned when he noticed the other boy dressed in his school uniform.

'Mycroft!' Greg called when he reached him. 'What's up? Where were you? Are you al- _mmf_!'

Greg was cut off when Mycroft crashed their mouths together, his lips bruising, his teeth dragging across Greg's bottom lip, tongue lashing into Greg's mouth. When they finally broke apart Greg was panting.

'M-Mycroft?'

'Come with me,' Mycroft practically ordered and threw open the passenger side door.

'Mycroft, what's going on?' Greg asked.

'Gregory-'

'No, tell me what's going on!' Greg demanded. 'Are you in trouble or somethin'?'

'No,' Mycroft groaned and rubbed his eyes. 'Please, just get in the car.'

'Why?' Greg asked.

Mycroft sighed and turned to face him. 'Because I can't be here today; at school, around other people. I just want to go somewhere and... forget everything, with you.' Greg wet his lips. 'Please, Greg? It's not like we haven't skived before.'

Mycroft had a slightly wild look in his eyes bordering on panic. He was glancing around and scratching at his inner-elbow, though he didn't appear to realise he was doing it. Greg took a deep breath and nodded.

'Fine, let's go,' he said and threw his bag into the car. 'But you're explaining everythin' when we get... wherever we're goin', got it?'

Mycroft nodded quickly and rounded the car as Greg climbed in. He joined his boyfriend and quickly turned the car on while Greg pulled his seatbelt on. They were both silent as Mycroft pulled out of the car park and sped down the road.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Soon the couple had pulled into an old park, the place deserted at 10am. Mycroft was the first out of the car and he walked quickly across the footpath, climbing over the short wooden fence, and crossing the grass to go sit on one of the swings. Greg grabbed his cigarettes and followed, keeping an eye on Mycroft as he walked.

He sat beside his boyfriend and they both lit up, Mycroft letting out an audible sigh as smoke filled his lungs. Greg took a slow drag of his cigarette and started pushing himself back and forth on the swing.

'So,' he finally said after a few minutes of silence. 'What's going on?'

'Nothing.'

Greg snorted. 'Don't lie to me, Mycroft.' Mycroft sighed again. 'What's up?' he asked. 'You weren't at school this morning, and you didn't turn up to English. What's wrong?'

Mycroft rolled his cigarette between his fingers and stared at the ground. He had gloves on- they appeared to be black leather- and Greg had to fight down the surge of arousal that spread through his body. What the hell, why did Mycroft in gloves turn him on?

'I... didn't have a good night,' Mycroft finally said.

Greg waited for him to continue, but when it became clear Mycroft wasn't going to say anything more, he said, 'That's it?'

Mycroft nodded jerkily.

'Seriously,' Greg chuckled humourlessly. 'Mycroft, I thought we trusted each other- I thought _you_ trusted _me_.'

'I do!' Mycroft huffed.

'So tell me what's wrong!' Greg growled.

'I... please, Gregory, I can't,' Mycroft said, and his voice was so soft, so broken, that Greg turned to look at him. 'Please don't ask me to, I'm just not ready,' Mycroft got out. 'I promise I'll tell you just... not now. Please?'

Greg looked him over carefully. Mycroft was staring hard at the ground, watching as his shoes pushed at the spongy ground beneath them. His eyes were dark, clouded, and his jaw was tense, teeth gritted. His entire body looked ready to snap, and he kept scratching at his inner-elbow.

Greg pursed his lips and looked away. He so badly wanted to know what had set Mycroft off; what could possibly shake the usually calm, suave red-head? But he didn't want to push; he didn't want to make things worse. And really, did he _have_ to know what had happened right now? He should be comforting his boyfriend, not making him more upset.

And Mycroft had promised to tell him soon, so...

Greg sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'Yeah, alright,' he said. 'I'm... yeah, 'kay, you can tell me later.'

Mycroft looked at him from the corner of his eye. 'Really?' he asked softly.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'I shouldn't have pushed; m'sorry.'

Mycroft nodded curtly. 'I am too,' he said. 'I want to tell you, Gregory, but-'

'No, s'fine,' Greg cut in. 'I get it; some things are hard to talk about.' He took another drag of his cigarette. 'Just tell us... are you alright?'

'Yes,' Mycroft said.

'Physically or emotionally?' Greg questioned. Mycroft chuckled. 'What?'

'Nothing,' Mycroft said and offered him a small smile. 'Physically I'm fine,' he said before pausing. 'Well, apart from recovering from a hangover, I'm fine.'

Greg cocked his head. 'You got drunk last night?'

'Well... does it count as last night if I continued to drink well into the early hours of the morning?' Mycroft asked.

Greg jolted and asked, 'You've been drinkin' all night and all mornin'?' Mycroft nodded. 'Why?' Greg demanded. 'Are you even safe to drive?'

Mycroft snorted. 'I'm fine.'

'Mycroft-'

'I'm _fine_ ,' Mycroft growled.

Greg scowled at him and sucked back on his cigarette. 'Fine,' he grunted.

'I am,' Mycroft insisted.

'Whatever,' Greg muttered and stared straight ahead.

They fell into an awkward silence, each boy glancing at the other before hastily looking away. Greg didn't know what to say; he felt like yelling. Mycroft could lose his licence, he could _hurt_ someone. What the fuck was he thinking?

Then again, who was Greg to judge? He'd driven while intoxicated in the past. And Mycroft didn't appear to be affected. But that didn't make it right, did it? Greg opened his mouth at least a dozen times to say something, but found himself backing down. Mycroft wasn't acting like himself and Greg didn't know what to do or say.

He wanted to know what had happened; a fight with Sherlock? With his parents? Had he failed a test at school, or had one of his businesses gone under? Greg didn't understand why Mycroft wouldn't just tell him what was wrong. Greg wouldn't judge; he loved Mycroft, flaws included.

_But he doesn't know that, does he?_ a small voice decided to remind Greg. Greg gritted his teeth. _He doesn't know exactly how you feel_.

_Shut up_ , Greg told himself and stamped his cigarette out before lighting a fresh one. Beside him Mycroft was already well into his third cigarette and took drag after drag, the thick grey smoke hanging around his head like a cloud.

Greg let out a deep breath and tilted his head back to look up at the sky. It was cold and dreary, like usual, but at least it wasn't windy; it was cold enough without a chill trying to get under his clothes. Greg pushed himself back and forth on the swing slowly, listening to his shoes drag along the ground, as well as each breath Mycroft took.

When he heard a scratching sound he turned, head tilted as he watched Mycroft's fingers dig into his inner elbow.

'Do you realise you're doin' that?' he said suddenly.

Mycroft jumped and looked at him, hand stilled. Greg nodded at it and Mycroft looked down before hastily tearing his hand away.

'Mycroft-'

'I'm not using,' Mycroft interrupted.

'I didn't say you were,' Greg said.

'Well... I'm not,' Mycroft muttered.

Greg nodded. 'Alright. But, um... can I ask why you do that?' he asked. 'Is it a subconscious thing?'

Mycroft leaned forward, elbows on his knees, cigarette sitting between gloved fingers. 'It is,' he finally said. 'I don't know why but I do it when I'm under stress or upset. I suppose my body's remembering how I used to deal with my problems.'

Greg swallowed thickly. 'Right.'

Mycroft turned to look at him. 'I'll never use again, Gregory,' he said slowly. 'I can't go back there.'

'Right,' Greg repeated. 'I trust you.'

Mycroft snorted and looked away. 'I wouldn't,' he muttered. 'You can never trust a junkie.'

'Hey,' Greg said and put his hand on Mycroft's arm. Mycroft stilled but didn't pull away. 'If you say you're not gonna use, you're not,' Greg said firmly. 'I trust you, Mycroft.'

Mycroft just nodded and Greg sighed before letting his hand slip away. Mycroft suddenly jumped up and dropped his cigarette, stamping it out with the heel of his leather shoe.

'Mycroft?' Greg questioned. He yelped when Mycroft dragged him up by the tie, and suddenly warm, slightly chapped lips were crushed against his own.

Just like in the car park at school, Greg had no control; Mycroft dominated the kiss thoroughly and despite himself Greg shivered. God, he could only imagine what it would be like when Mycroft finally fucked him.

When they broke apart Mycroft's cheeks were flushed pink, his eyes darkened with lust. He licked his lips slowly and Greg moaned.

'Are you against public sex?' Mycroft asked suddenly.

'Uh...' Greg stuttered at the question, 'n-no.'

'Good,' Mycroft said and dropped his hand to grab Greg's, linking their fingers. 'Because I want you to fuck me.'

Greg groaned and let Mycroft tug him across the park, over the fence, and into the car. A part of him wanted to throw up a huge "slow the fuck down" sign, but his hormones had taken over, allowing Greg to get pushed onto his back, Mycroft's hands going to his mouth. He ripped off his gloves with his teeth and Greg moaned as he watched, completely lost to the lust rolling through his body.

Mycroft made quick work of his shoes, trousers and underwear, soon straddling Greg's thighs naked from the waist down. He shrugged off his blazer and loosened his tie, presenting a thoroughly debauched image for Greg's hungry eyes.

Greg chewed on his bottom lip as Mycroft tore his belt and fly open, quickly pulling Greg's cock through the seam in his boxers. 'Stroke yourself,' Mycroft ordered and Greg hurried to comply.

He moaned when Mycroft sat up to lean between the front seats, his bare arse on display. When he sat back down he had a bottle of lube and a condom.

'Since when do we use condoms?' Greg asked.

Mycroft snorted. 'These are leather seats, Greg.' Batting Greg's hands away, Mycroft tore the foil open and rolled the rubber onto Greg's erection, followed by a healthy dollop of gel. He slicked Greg up quickly and threw the bottle over the front seats.

'Wait, I gotta prepare you!' Greg said.

'No,' Mycroft grunted as he got himself into position. 'Hard and dirty,' he said before grabbing Greg's cock and sitting right down.

Both hissed, Greg in pleasure, Mycroft in slight pain. His was gorgeously tight and Greg threw his head back, teeth gritted and head aching dully when he hit it against the door. He very quickly bottomed out, balls resting against Mycroft's arse.

Mycroft didn't give his boyfriend time to breathe. He immediately pulled himself up until only the head of Greg's cock was inside him before pushing himself back down. Mycroft let out a deep, low moan, head lolling back as he started riding Greg with abandon.

Greg grabbed onto his thighs, trying in vain to get some control over the situation. His fingers dug into Mycroft's soft, milky skin, and Mycroft moaned again, his movements speeding up.

'Fucking hell, Myc,' Greg moaned. 'Slow down a bit!'

'No,' Mycroft hissed again. 'Just fuck me!'

'You're doin' all the fucking!' Greg retorted.

Mycroft pressed one hand against the back seat, the other grabbing onto the passenger seat, and he shifted his legs about until he got more comfortable. Greg's eyes rolled into the back of his head when Mycroft moved even faster, the red-head thoroughly fucking him into the seat.

He was definitely topping; even though Greg was technically doing the fucking, Mycroft was in complete control. He moaned and growled, shifted and rolled his hips, moved about until Greg's cock was hitting his prostate over and over again and making pleasure rake through both their bodies.

All Greg could do was hold on for dear life as his boyfriend fucked himself on his cock.

'Jesus... fucking... _shit_!' Greg moaned as his dick was squeezed. 'M-Mycroft.'

'Just a bit more,' Mycroft groaned. 'Just there, Greg!'

'You're doin' all the work!' Greg reminded him.

Mycroft completely ignored him. His head was tossed back, shirt sticking to his sweaty torso. Greg had never seen him more debauched and it forced his muscles to spasm. His balls were drawing up, the fire in his stomach morphing and growing until Greg couldn't control it. He grabbed onto Mycroft's hips and tried to lift his arse off the seat.

'Greg!' Mycroft shouted and came without touching his dick, come shooting from the tip and splashing across Greg's shirt.

'Fuck!' Greg grunted in response as he came in the condom, his cock suddenly being clenched by Mycroft's spasming muscles. His fingers dug into Mycroft's hips hard as he rode out his orgasm, and Mycroft's knuckles were white from where he was gripping the seats.

Slowly the two teenagers came back to themselves and Mycroft looked down at Greg with cloudy blue eyes. A slow, sinful smirk spread across his face and Greg moaned as Mycroft lifted himself free.

'Fuck,' Greg repeated, this time his voice hoarse and raw.

Mycroft chuckled but said nothing as he grabbed a packet of tissues from the console. He did his best to clean Greg up, but his shirt was stained and would have to be washed. _Lucky it's white_ , Greg thought.

Mycroft stripped Greg of the condom and cleaned him up, wrapping the rubber in tissues and dropping it into the console. He struggled back into his pants and trousers, doing his shoes up while Greg tucked himself away.

The windows went down and Mycroft lit a cigarette, slouching back in his seat, looking thoroughly fucked. He blew smoke out the window while Greg tried to catch his breath and wrap his head around what had happened.

'So...' he finally said and Mycroft tilted his head to look at him. 'Eh... what was that?'

'Sex,' Mycroft answered.

'No, that wasn't sex, that was... a hard, dirty fuck,' Greg said, remembering Mycroft's earlier words.' The genius just shrugged. 'Any reason you jumped me?' Greg asked and peered out his window. There was nobody about and Greg was thankful for that. The last thing he needed was to get arrested for public indecency. His mum would never let him live it down.

'I wanted sex,' Mycroft shrugged, 'and you were here.'

Greg felt his heart skip a beat and turned slowly to look at his boyfriend. 'What?'

'What?' Mycroft echoed.

'You wanted sex...' Greg said slowly, 'and I was _here_?'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'That _is_ what I said, isn't it?'

'So, what?' Greg said, feeling his anger build quickly until it was practically bursting from his ears, 'I was just a convenient fuck?'

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'Don't get dramatic.'

'That's what you said!' Greg said. 'You wanted sex and I was here; so, what, if I wasn't you woulda gone and found some other fucking guy?'

'I didn't say that!' Mycroft growled.

'You might as well have!' Greg shouted.

'What's your problem?'

'What's _yours_?' Greg countered. 'You won't fucking tell me what's wrong! You've been up all night drinking and dragged me outta school, but won't tell me what the fuck happened! And you've been havin' worse moodswings than my mum when she's PMSing! Oh, and to top it all off,' Greg added sarcastically, 'I'm just a convenient shag!'

'You're beginning to annoy me,' Mycroft growled and flicked his fag out the window.

'I'm annoying _you_?'

'Yes!' Mycroft exploded. 'What the fuck do you want from me?'

'I want you to act like my boyfriend, not like a one-night stand!' Greg shouted.

'Yes, because that would be so _hard_ for you,' Mycroft mocked.

Greg's eyes narrowed. 'What the fuck did you just say?'

'I said get out of my car!' Mycroft shouted and ripped his door open, slamming it shut behind him. Greg blinked in surprise as Mycroft rounded the car and pulled Greg's door open, almost sending the brunette tumbling to the tarmac.

'What the fuck?' Greg grunted as he stumbled from the car.

Mycroft grabbed his school bag and threw it at Greg.

'Mycroft, what are you doing?' Greg demanded as his boyfriend slammed the door shut.

'Leaving,' Mycroft said.

'You can't leave me here!'

'Watch me.' Mycroft opened his door and jumped in, slamming it shut behind him with a loud _thud_.

He started the car and Greg shouted, 'Mycroft!'

But the red-head ignored him and took off, leaving Greg stranded in an empty park, his blood boiling and mind completely confused.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Dimmock had just sat down beside Sally Donovan when his mobile vibrated in his pocket. Sighing and glancing at his tub of cold pasta, Dimmock fished his mobile out and glanced at the caller ID.

_Greg_.

'What the hell?' Dimmock murmured before answering, 'Hello?'

' _Dimmo, I need a favour_ ,' came Greg's voice.

'Greg? What are you callin' me for?' Dimmock asked.

' _I'll tell you when you pick me up_.'

Dimmock paused, a frown making his brows forrow. 'Pick you up?' he echoed.

' _Yeah_ ,' Greg said and Dimmock heard him take a drag of a cigarette. ' _I'm at Holland Park; just use Google maps to come get me._ '

'No, I know where Holland Park is; Lily plays cricket there some weekends,' Dimmock said. By now Sally, Joe, and BJ were all looking at him. 'Greg, why the hell are you at Holland Park?'

' _Mycroft_ ,' Greg growled.

'What?'

' _Look, Dimmo, can you just come get me?_ ' Greg asked. ' _It's about a twenty minute walk to school and I'm fucking tired and hungry._ '

'Yeah, alright,' Dimmock said. 'But you owe me an explanation.'

' _Yeah, yeah_ ,' Greg muttered.

'I'll see you in ten minutes,' Dimmock said before hanging up. He looked at his lunch and sighed before standing.

'What's going on?' Sally asked.

'No idea,' Dimmock said and shoved his lunch back into his bag. He shouldered it and stepped over the wooden seat. 'I'll be back soon with our favourite hoodlum.'

BJ saluted him and Joe just frowned in confusion as Dimmock headed for the car park.

_What the fuck have you got yourself into now, Greg?_ Dimmock mused as he climbed into his car.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg sighed in relief when Dimmock's battered BMW pulled into the car park. He flicked his cigarette aside and stood as Dimmock pulled up beside him, the window going down.

'Five bucks for a blow job, right?' Dimmock asked.

'Shut the fuck up,' Greg muttered.

Dimmock chuckled as he unlocked the passenger side door and Greg climbed in. 'Okay, what the hell are you doing here?' Dimmock asked.

'I have no fucking idea,' Greg sighed as he leaned back in the seat.

'Okay...' Dimmock hummed. 'Start at the beginning?' he suggested.

Greg nodded and told Dimmock everything, from Mycroft getting Matt to drag him out of class, to the quick shag in the back of Mycroft's Jag, followed by a row that Greg still didn't quite understand. By the time he was done they were back at school.

'Well,' Dimmock said and turned his car off, 'I have no idea what to say.'

'Neither do I.'

'Something obviously happened,' Dimmock continued, 'something that messed Mycroft up. And he's hurting.'

'Yeah,' Greg sighed. He rubbed his eyes and said, 'I just dunno how to get him to open up.'

Dimmock chewed on his bottom lip. 'Just... go make sure he knows you're still here.' Greg looked at him. 'You just had a fight, and Mycroft's in a bad place,' Dimmock said, 'make sure he knows you're still together, despite him acting like a dick.'

Greg sighed again.

'You... are still with him, right?' Dimmock asked.

'Yes!' Greg snapped. 'It'd take more than a stupid fight to make me leave Mycroft.'

'Good,' Dimmock nodded, 'so tell him that.'

'Um... don't know if you've noticed, but we've got school,' Greg said, his hand gesturing at the buildings through the windscreen.

Dimmock snorted and climbed out of the car, Greg following. 'That didn't stop you taking off for a quick shag,' he reminded his best friend. 'And this is more important, isn't it?'

'Yeah,' Greg agreed. He rubbed his face. 'Fuck it.'

'Just go get your helmet and find Mycroft,' Dimmock said.

'Thanks Dimmo,' Greg said and jogged off. 'I owe you!' he shouted over his shoulder.

'Damn right you do,' Dimmock commented, grabbing his bag.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


In hindsight, Greg probably shouldn't have called Sherlock Holmes and said, ' _So, your brother's missing, know where he is?_ ' What followed was over two dozen calls and forty texts from the child genius, all demanding the same thing; find Mycroft Holmes.

Greg was trying his hardest. He'd headed past Holmes Manor, only to see a black Lexus parked up near the house that he knew belonged to Siger Holmes. He'd then gone to Tesco, McDonalds, and even the Underpass. He was thankful when the last one turned up no red-headed geniuses; he didn't know what it would say about Mycroft's self-control if he was hanging around junkies.

It was dark by the time Greg pulled up at Greyson Lake, hooking his helmet over one of the handlebars and jumping the short fence. He'd phoned into work and said he was sick, so he didn't have to be in until the next afternoon. He'd then called his mum to ask if she'd seen Mycroft. But Greg's house was Mycroft-free too, and Maggie had made him promise to call when he found his boyfriend.

Greg ran through the trees as fast as the moonlight would allow him; he didn't fancy breaking his leg or arm on a tree root, thank you very much. When he finally reached the clearing he was out of breath.

Sitting on a milk crate, staring at the trees and what could be seen of the lake, was Mycroft. Greg breathed out a sigh of relief and hunched over, breath coming in quick gasps, his lungs burning. When he could breathe somewhat normally, Greg approached his boyfriend.

Mycroft flinched when Greg rounded the milk crates. He had a cooler at his feet filled with ice packs and cans of beer. There were five empty ones crushed on the ground before him, and Greg could smell the alcohol as he turned to face his partner.

Mycroft's cheeks were pink, and not from the cold. Greg could make out tear-tracks in the soft light, and Mycroft's eyes were red and puffy.

'Mycroft?' Greg asked hesitantly.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft said, his voice shaky.

''Bout what?' Greg asked. Mycroft breathed in and out heavily before taking another swig of beer. 'Easy there,' Greg said and reached out. Mycroft let him take the can and Greg placed it on the ground. 'Take your time,' Greg said.

He'd been ready to rant; to scream and hurl abuse. But seeing Mycroft like this, crying and broken, Greg just couldn't do it.

After a few minutes Mycroft lit a cigarette and Greg did the same, the older boy hoping it would calm his partner down enough to speak.

'I... I'm sorry,' Mycroft repeated, but this time continued, 'I didn't mean to speak to you like that; or treat you like that.'

'Okay,' Greg said. 'Why did you?'

Mycroft took a shaky breath. 'When... when I have problems, I use... sex and alcohol to make them go away,' he admitted. 'I fuck whatever guy I set my sights on and just leave.'

He turned to face Greg, fresh tears prickling in his eyes.

'I tried to do that to you,' Mycroft whispered. 'I took control and used you to get what I wanted, like I used to. But... but I shouldn't have, because you're not some random shag; you're my boyfriend and I love-' Mycroft cut himself off and closed his eyes. 'I care about you and I shouldn't have done that; you didn't deserve it,' the genius said softly. Tears slipped past his closed lids. 'I'm so sorry.'

Greg closed his own eyes and tugged Mycroft forward until the younger teen's head was buried in his chest. Mycroft didn't sob, or really make a noise. He just shook quietly, tears splashing onto Greg's already soiled school shirt. Greg stroked his back slowly, humming under his breath, hoping it would calm his boyfriend down.

God, Mycroft was just like him; using alcohol and sex to make his problems go away. But Mycroft had far darker issues than Greg. Greg had slept around to alleviate his boredom; to try and find someone, anyone, who could interest him. Mycroft had slept around to chase his demons away; the way his father treated him, the persona he had to use both at school and home, the harsh words Greg himself had used.

'I'm so sorry,' Greg whispered. He didn't know exactly what he was apologising for; maybe Mycroft's crappy home life, or the way he'd treated the red-head. Greg just wanted to make it all go away. He wanted Mycroft to be happy, to laugh and smile. He just didn't know how to do that.

'Why are you saying sorry?' Mycroft asked, voice muffled by Greg's shirt.

'A lot of things,' Greg said. He glanced down. 'Ready to tell me what happened?' Mycroft hesitated before nodding and Greg rubbed his back again. 'Take your time,' he said.

Slowly, Mycroft told Greg about his fight with Siger; about Siger grabbing him, throwing cigarettes at him, calling him names and swearing. Greg tried to get his anger under control, but it flared hot and bright through his chest, through his entire body. He had to physically restrain himself from leaping to his feet and going to beat the fuck out of Siger Holmes.

Mycroft kept his eyes down, head tilted away from Greg, and when he finished he sniffed and rubbed his eyes.

'Mycroft,' Greg said, breathing heavily as he tried to control his temper, 'why didn't you tell me?'

'I'm used to dealing with these things on my own,' Mycroft said and Greg sighed. 'I'm supposed to take care of Sherlock and be strong. And I... I didn't want you to get angry and try to hurt my father.'

'Mycroft-'

'I don't want you getting in trouble for me,' Mycroft interrupted.

Greg sighed again and looked at his boyfriend. 'Mycroft, you aren't alone anymore,' he said firmly. 'You've got me, alright? And it'll take more than some harsh words and stupid fights to make me leave.' He grabbed Mycroft's hand and squeezed tightly. 'I'll always be here if you want me, Mycroft. I'm here to help you through the bad times; that's what boyfriends are for, okay?'

Mycroft nodded slowly and wiped his eyes again.

'It's okay to cry,' Greg said and Mycroft choked out a laugh. 'I don't mind.'

'I know,' Mycroft sniffed. 'But I don't like it.'

Greg reached out and brushed Mycroft's wet cheek with his thumb. 'You can cry in front of me, Myc. You can throw things and scream and do whatever you want. I care about you and I'll always be here.'

Mycroft nodded. 'Thank you.'

'No worries,' Greg said and kissed him gently. 'Do you wanna come back to mine?'

'No, I better get home,' Mycroft said and rubbed his nose. He pulled his BlackBerry from his pocket. 'Oh...'

'What?' Greg asked.

'Forty-two missed calls and fifty-six texts,' Mycroft said. 'Most from Sherlock.'

'He was worried,' Greg said.

'I'll text him,' Mycroft murmured. 'I shouldn't have ignored him.'

'He'll understand; you were upset.'

Mycroft offered him a small smile before tapping at his BlackBerry. After sending the text he turned to look through the trees and across the lake.

Greg's arm wrapped around his waist, and Mycroft rested his head on Greg's shoulder.

'Okay now?' Greg asked.

'Better,' Mycroft said. 'Thank you, Gregory.'

'No worries,' Greg said and kissed Mycroft on the temple. 'S'what I'm here for.'

Mycroft smiled and snuggled into Greg's side. He'd always held himself together; had never let anyone see his weak side. But with Greg it felt okay. With Greg, Mycroft knew he could break down. Because Greg would help him pick up the pieces.


	64. You Found Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** You Found Me by The Fray

Mycroft wasn't at school the next day, but he'd called Greg early that morning and explained he was nursing a headache courtesy of too much alcohol, crying, and Sherlock and Anthea both screaming at him for being an idiot. Greg understood Mycroft needing some time alone to get himself together, and made his boyfriend promise to call at midday to check in.

With Mycroft's permission, Greg had explained to Dimmock what had happened, and like Greg, the other boy had been furious. Dimmock cared about Mycroft too; despite their past, Dimmock and Mycroft were friends thanks to Greg. Dimmock wanted to hunt down Siger Holmes and punch his face in. It was a little more sedate compared to what Greg wanted to do.

'Castration, really?' Dimmock snorted.

They were sitting at the picnic tables, this time surrounded by all their friends; Lily and Alex were discussing _something_ in hushed tones (no doubt a plan that would cause the demise of someone the girls didn't like), BJ, Joe, and Sally were arguing about which season of Supernatural was better, and Molly was tapping at her phone, giving Greg and Dimmock some privacy.

'The fucker deserves worse,' Greg growled as he shoved rice into his mouth. Maggie had ordered Chinese and Greg hadn't eaten a lot the night before. Because of the amount of alcohol Mycroft had ingested, the two had stayed at Greyson Lake for a few hours until Mycroft was safe to drive home. Thankfully Maggie understood and Greg hadn't got into trouble.

'Mm,' Dimmock hummed, choosing not to comment.

Greg had just shovelled more rice and curry prawns into his mouth when his mobile rang. He tried to swallow and choked, making Dimmock, Joe and BJ all laugh. Greg swiped his thumb along his phone when he saw the caller ID.

'Ewoo?'

There was a pause before, ' _Was that supposed to be "hello"?_ '

Greg choked down his mouthful and panted, 'Yeah.'

Mycroft snorted. ' _Were you eating?_ '

'Shut up, I'm hungry.'

' _My apologies_ ,' Mycroft chuckled.

Greg took a sip of his coke and cleared his throat. 'So...'

' _So...?_ ' Mycroft echoed.

'Mycroft,' Greg huffed.

' _What?_ '

Greg turned away so he was sitting sideways on the seat and asked softly, 'You okay?'

' _I'm fine_ ,' Mycroft answered. ' _My head doesn't hurt any more thanks to copious amounts of tea, and my father left for a business meeting in London_.'

'That's good,' Greg said. He knew that Mycroft's home life was easier without his father around.

' _He'll be in London for a week,_ ' Mycroft said, ' _and my mother has decided to join him this afternoon. Sherlock's also going; he wants to visit a few stores and pick up some things for his chemistry set._ '

'Right,' Greg said. 'I take it you're not going?'

' _God, no_ ,' Mycroft snorted. ' _Father doesn't want Sherlock or Mother there, and they'll be staying in separate rooms because Father has to work._ '

'What a knob,' Greg muttered.

' _You don't have to tell me; I live with the man_.'

'Mm,' Greg hummed. 'So... whole house to yourself for the weekend, huh?'

' _Yes_ ,' Mycroft said and Greg heard a smile in his voice. ' _My family will be back Sunday night. Until then I'm on my own... well, with Mrs Hudson and Mr Andrew, but they won't be working. And Anthea told me she's staying at Sally's_.'

'Really?' Greg said and glanced over at Sally, who was now talking to Alex and Lily. No doubt the two St Mary's girls had talked Sally into their scheme. 'I didn't know their relationship was going that well.'

' _I'm pretty sure Anthea loves Sally,_ ' Mycroft told him, ' _I don't think they've exchanged the words yet, but they both know it._ '

'Yeah,' Greg said and thought about his own relationship. He definitely loved Mycroft. And he liked to think that when he said it, Mycroft would return the words. 'So... you busy Saturday?'

Mycroft chuckled. ' _No, I'm free._ '

'Fancy that; I am too.'

' _Isn't that a coincidence_ ,' Mycroft said sarcastically.

Greg grinned. 'Wanna have dinner with me?'

' _I'd love to_ ,' Mycroft said. ' _It'll be my apology for yesterday_.'

'You don't have to apologise, Mycroft,' Greg said softly. 'I know why you acted that way.'

' _I know_ ,' Mycroft replied, ' _but I still want to apologise_.'

'Okay,' Greg smiled. 'It's a date.'

' _Come to the Manor around five?_ ' Mycroft asked. ' _I have some business to attend to, but I should be free after four-thirty. We'll have dinner and you can stay the night._ '

'I'll see you then,' Greg grinned.

' _I can't wait_ ,' Mycroft said before hanging up.

Greg's grin was still firmly in place as he put his mobile away and turned back to his lunch.

' _Wha-chh_ ,' Dimmock said, complete with whip-miming.

'Fuck off,' Greg said. 'I'm in too good a mood for you.'

'Ouch, I'm hurt,' Dimmock huffed. Greg poked his tongue out while Molly slapped her boyfriend gently on the arm.

'Leave him alone, Michael.'

'Yeah, Michael,' BJ mimicked.

'Oi, don't make me hit you!' Lily threatened.

'Easy,' BJ said and raised his hands in surrender.

Joe snorted. 'God, you aren't even dating her and you do what she wants.'

'Hey, you wanna be hit by her?' BJ asked and pointed at Lily.

Joe glanced at her, and Lily grinned broadly. 'No,' Joe said and crammed a handful of crisps into his mouth. Alex and Sally both snickered and Molly pecked Dimmock on the cheek. Greg just grinned as he continued eating his lunch.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg and Mycroft had exchanged texts and phone calls, but they hadn't seen each other in person since saying goodbye at Greyson Lake. Greg had had to work Friday night, and Mycroft was busy most of Saturday with his various business calls and emails. Maggie had given Greg the okay to spend the night at Mycroft's, so at four-thirty the teenager packed a bag and rode to Holmes Manor.

He was let in by Anthea, who was just leaving with Sally. 'I thought you were spendin' the night at Sally's,' Greg said when Anthea stopped her convertible just outside the gates.

'I am tonight,' Anthea said. 'Sally stayed over last night because Mr and Mrs Holmes weren't here.'

'Right,' Greg said. 'Well have fun.'

'You too,' Sally winked and Greg rolled his eyes. He rode up to the garage and parked his bike, leaving his helmet on the handlebars. He was a bit early- it was ten to five- but he didn't think Mycroft would mind him hanging around for a few minutes.

Mrs Hudson answered the door and ushered Greg into the sitting room, despite Greg's polite protests. He didn't have the heart to say no to a cup of tea and chocolate digestives, so when Mycroft entered the sitting room at quarter past five, Greg had nibbled his way through two biscuits and drank a cup of tea.

'Hello,' Mycroft smiled and bent to give Greg a chaste kiss. 'Did she kidnap you?' he asked softly.

Greg nodded but out loud he said, 'Mrs Hudson was just telling me some stories your mother shared of your childhood.'

Mycroft groaned and sat beside his boyfriend. 'Mrs Hudson, please.'

'What?' the woman smiled. 'I don't think you have anything to be embarrassed by.'

'Did she tell you the cake story?' Mycroft asked.

'She told me the cake story,' Greg confirmed with a nod.

'Oh God,' Mycroft groaned and buried his face in his hands. 'Why?' he asked no one in particular.

'It's a cute story,' Mrs Hudson said.

'Oh yeah, definitely,' Greg grinned. 'Especially when you got naked and-'

'Okay, story time is over,' Mycroft interrupted. 'Mrs Hudson, thank you for keeping Gregory company, but we really must be off; homework to do and whatnot.'

'Of course,' Mrs Hudson smiled and grabbed Greg's mug. 'If you boys need anything let me know.'

'We will,' Mycroft said. He grabbed Greg's arm and dragged him from the room, Greg snickering. 'Shut up,' Mycroft huffed.

'It's a cute story,' Greg said.

'It isn't.'

'Is,' Greg grinned.

'Isn't,' Mycroft scowled.

'It _so_ is!'

Mycroft pushed Greg against the wall on the stairs and shut him up with a thorough snog. Greg pushed his fingers through Mycroft's hair and tugged him closer, forcing Mycroft's mouth open until his tongue could dive in.

The two moaned and rutted against each other until Mycroft broke the kiss. Panting, he said, 'After dinner.'

'Why not now?' Greg whined.

'Mrs Hudson is still baking and Mr Andrew is fixing the floorboards in the sun room,' Mycroft told him. 'I'd rather them be in the opposite side of the house when we have sex.'

'Hm... okay,' Greg grinned and pecked Mycroft on the cheek. 'So, when's dinner?'

'Whenever you want it,' Mcyroft told him.

'Well I'm kinda full of tea and biscuits,' Greg said and Mycroft smiled. 'Wanna watch something until I'm a bit hungrier?'

'How about we listen to some music and read?' Mycroft asked. 'I have a few new music magazines.'

'Awesome,' Greg grinned and kissed him again. 'Lead the way, Mr Holmes.'

Mycroft chuckled and threaded their fingers together, squeezing Greg's digits as he led the way upstairs.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


After listening to a few Green Day albums, as well as Fall Out Boy (Greg bitched and whined the entire time, but Mycroft just turned the CD player up and sang loudly), Mycroft led Greg back downstairs and into the dining room.

Greg had been expecting take out- maybe pizza or Chinese or Indian- instead he found the large dining room table covered with a white tablecloth, three white candles burning brightly in a silver holder, as well as a small vase with one sunflower. The lights had been dimmed slightly, giving the entire room a very romantic feel.

Mycroft walked across the room and pulled the chair at the end of the right side out. 'Mr Lestrade,' he said and gestured to the table.

Greg chuckled. 'You're amazing,' he said and kissed Mycroft chastely before sitting. Mycroft tucked him in. 'Absolutely amazing.'

'I'm glad you think so,' Mycroft smiled. 'Wait here.'

Greg nodded and Mycroft disappeared through a door, coming back about a minute later with two bowls set atop porcelin plates. He set one down before Greg, the other at a right angle to Greg's seat.

The bowls were filled with salad; fresh, green lettuce, cubes of feta cheese, what appeared to be chopped almonds, cubes of pickles, and tomato. It was topped with a clear liquid that Greg identified as vinegar when the scent hit his nose.

'A salad appetiser,' Mycroft said. 'What would you like to drink? I have... everything, really.'

'Um... a beer would be good,' Greg said.

Mycroft nodded and again disappeared. He came back with a tray that had two tall glasses, two bottles of beer, silverwear, and napkins.

'Wow,' Greg said when Mycroft set it up and poured their drinks. 'You might just have a career as a waiter.'

'Perhaps I'll open my own restaurant,' Mycroft mused. 'You can be the chef.'

'Oh God no,' Greg wrinkled his nose. 'Maybe a sexy waiter.' Mycroft chuckled as he sat. 'I could wear tight black jeans, a nice shirt and tie. Flirt with everyone to get better tips.'

'I don't think so,' Mycroft shook his head.

'Ooh, would my big bad boyfriend get jealous?' Greg asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft said without hesitation.

Greg chuckled and picked up his fork. 'Mm, this is delicious,' he said after swallowing his first mouthful. 'Did you make this?'

'The salad, yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'With Mrs Hudson's help,' he admitted.

'Well, it's great,' Greg grinned.

'I'll admit that I didn't make our main course,' Mycroft said as he munched on his own mouthful. 'I ordered it from one of my favourite restaurants.'

'They have takeaway?' Greg asked. In his mind, the Holmeses didn't eat at any restaurant that wasn't five star.

'They do for me,' Mycroft smirked.

Greg laughed and took a sip of beer. 'I can teach you to cook, if you want,' he said.

'I'm sure I'd burn it,' Mycroft commented.

'Nah, anyone can cook,' Greg told him. 'You just have to listen and have patience. It's really not that hard.'

'I think you're overestimating my abilities, Gregory.'

'Well, I guess I'll just have to cook all our meals,' Greg said. 'You can do the dishes.'

'Oh goodie,' Mycroft drawled.

Greg grinned and went back to his salad. They chatted softly about school work, Sherlock's recent experiments (one of which had almost burned down the stables), as well as Sherlock and John's relationship.

'They have you to thank for that,' Mycroft said.

Greg shrugged as he ate his last cube of feta. 'I just gave John some advice; it wasn't anything special.'

'You were there for him,' Mycroft said. 'When he was confused and needed help, you gave him sound advice. Not many people would be willing to listen to a thirteen-year-old drone on about his love life.'

'John's a good kid, and Sherlock is too, despite his... odder tendancies.' Mycroft chuckled. 'They clearly care about each other and I wanted to help.'

'Thank you,' Mycroft said and grabbed Greg's hand. Because they were sitting at a right angle, he didn't have to reach very far, and Greg smiled at him. 'I fear Sherlock would have dragged his feet and wasted many years before finally admitting his feelings.'

'They're still young,' Greg said.

'That doesn't matter,' Mycroft smiled, 'they'll have many more happy years together thanks to you.'

'You reckon they'll stay together?' Greg asked. 'As I said, they _are_ young.'

'Sherlock isn't like every other teenager,' Mycroft told him and stood to collect their empty bowls. 'When he loves, he loves completely. He won't leave John because he's attracted to someone else, or because he's unsatisfied with their sex life. He loves John for every attribute and every flaw; their relationship will be built on trust and understanding, and neither are afraid to tell the other how they really feel.'

He paused and looked down at Greg as he placed the bowls on the tray.

'I think they'll spend the rest of their lives together, because they're perfect for each other. They understand each other and understand what's important. Neither will throw that away for something frivolous.'

Greg grinned and couldn't help but sit up to capture Mycroft's lips in a sweet, gentle kiss. When they broke apart he said, 'You're just a romantic at heart, aren't you?'

'I am now,' Mycroft said and kissed him again. 'Do you want another beer?'

'I'm good,' Greg shook his head.

Mycroft disappeared and returned with two plates of steaming pasta bake. Greg licked his lips as his plate was placed before him.

'This looks delicious.'

'I should hope so; it's one of my favourite dishes,' Mycroft said.

Greg grabbed his half-full glass and raised it. 'To us,' he said.

Mycroft smiled and grabbed his own glass. 'To us,' he echoed and clinked his glass against Greg's. He took a sip and said, 'Now who's a romantic at heart?' Greg shrugged. 'You pretend to be some rebel, badboy; with your drinking and smoking and swearing...' Mycroft smirked. 'But really you're a big softie.'

'Oh, you've caught me!' Greg swooned dramatically. 'Please don't tell anyone, my repuation will be ruined!'

Mycroft played with his fork, blue eyes suddenly dark in the romantic lighting, and Greg swallowed as his partner leaned forward and practically purred, 'What are you offering me for my silence?'

Greg swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling hungry for something other than pasta bake. He set his fork down and said, 'Well... what will it take, Mr Holmes?'

Mycroft smirked sinfully and Greg bit his lip to contain a moan. God, he was ragingly hard already.

'Perhaps _I_ should be the one offering _you_ something, hmm?' Mycroft hummed. 'After all, I treated you poorly a few days ago.'

'Uh... yeah...' Greg stuttered.

'So, Mr Lestrade... or should I say Detective Inspector Lestrade?'

'Jesus Christ,' Greg whimpered. Role-playing, he was _so_ okay with that!

'Well?' Mycroft asked.

'Um... you should... s-suck my cock,' Greg choked out.

'Should I?' Mycroft purred. 'And what else should I do? Be on my knees, naked, with you standing over me completely dressed?' Greg whimpered again. 'Or should I lay on the bed, spread out just for you, while you do whatever you want?' Mycroft let his fingers slide over his fork, miming a jerking motion that had Greg's cock twitching in his jeans. 'Or maybe you should tie me up and show me what a naughty boy I've been?'

'I reckon we should go upstairs and fuck,' Greg interrupted.

Mycroft raised a rust-coloured eyebrow. 'Before dinner?'

'Fuck dinner; we can re-heat it.'

Mycroft smiled and asked, 'Is that what you want?'

'Fuck yes!' Greg practically shouted. 'No games, no role-play, just you and me, in bed, naked.'

'Because that's all you need?' Mycroft asked. When Greg nodded, the younger teen stood quickly and grabbed their plates and forks, throwing them onto the tray. Greg blew the candles out and took their glasses into the kitchen.

Mycroft grabbed him and forced him against the sink, Greg moaning before he'd been fully turned around. Mycroft sealed their mouths together and Greg returned the kiss eagerly, his hands going to Mycroft's hips.

Mycroft ripped his lips away and latched onto Greg's neck, the brunette tilting his head back and moaning. 'Fuck, Mycroft.'

'Upstairs,' Mycroft mumbled as his tongue lashed against Greg's skin. 'Now!'

Greg grabbed Mycroft's hand and the genius tugged him through the kitchen, dining room, and out into the foyer. The rest of the house was shrouded in darkness, not that that stopped Mycroft and Greg. They bashed into walls, furniture, the staircase railing, and everything they came into contact with as they stumbled about trying to kiss and grope each other.

Greg giggled when Mycroft knocked a painting from the wall, and Mycroft growled and attacked Greg's lips while flipping them around, swapping their positions so Greg had his back to the wall, Mycroft pressed against him. They could feel each other's erections straining through their jeans, eager to get out, and both moaned as they rutted against each other.

Greg threaded his fingers through Mycroft's hair and tugged the genius closer as he stuck his tongue as far down Mycroft's throat as he could. Mycroft grunted in response and sucked Greg's tongue hard while his fingers pushed up the hem of Greg's shirt.

Greg ripped his mouth away and moaned. They were standing just outside Mycroft's bedroom, Greg pushed hard against the wall opposite while Mycroft explored his mouth and the soft, warm skin under his shirt.

'Christ, Mycroft,' Greg moaned. 'Just... bed... please...'

Mycroft nodded and wrapped his fingers around Greg's wrist. He pulled Greg towards the bedroom and ripped the door open. Not bothering to close it- Mycroft's cock was throbbing now- Mycroft left the door open and yanked Greg across the room.

He threw Greg onto the bed and the brunette let out a huff of air. He smiled as Mycroft crawled up the mattress and straddled his hips. 'I like it when you take over,' Greg leered.

'Do you?'

Greg nodded. 'I know I always top, I don't know _why_ -'

'Because I like it,' Mycroft interrupted.

Greg blinked. 'Okay...'

'I _do_ want to top,' Mycroft nodded, 'I prefer it. But... I really like you topping, and... what if we change our positions and it isn't as good?'

Greg's eyes widened as he realised that Mycroft was worried; worried that if _he_ topped Greg, it wouldn't be as good. Worried that their relationship would fall apart.

'Hey, Mycroft,' Greg said and smiled warmly. He sat up so he could stroke Mycroft's cheek. 'I care about you, okay?' he said. 'When you top it'll be fantastic because it's you and me; because we work together. 'Kay?'

Mycroft gulped but nodded.

'We'll just... let it happen, yeah?' Greg said. 'When you feel like topping, and I want it, we'll do it.'

'Okay,' Mycroft nodded. 'And you don't mind that we haven't yet?'

'Nah,' Greg shook his head. 'You on top, me on top, neither of us, whatever. I just like having sex with you 'cause it's you.'

Mycroft smiled and captured Greg's lips in a soft, gentle kiss. 'Thank you,' he murmured. 'That was very sweet.'

'No worries,' Greg said. 'I meant it, Myc. I like having sex with you 'cause it's you. Doesn't matter how we do it.'

Mycroft smiled, and Greg smiled in return.


	65. Oh Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Oh Love by Green Day

Mycroft bent down and kissed Greg again. Their kisses were soft and slow, and the two took time undressing each other. Greg lifted his torso off the bed so Mycroft could draw his long-sleeved shirt off, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. Greg's hands went up Mycroft's button-up shirt and Mycroft shivered as his partner's nails dragged along his over-heated skin.

Mycroft started un-buttoning his shirt, fingers firm and steady as he dragged each button through the corresponding hole, and Greg leaned back against the mountain of pillows on the bed, eyes hooded as he watched his boyfriend slowly strip. Mycroft smiled as the shirt fell down his freckled shoulders, each move deliberate and seductive, and Greg licked his lips eagerly when Mycroft finally let his shirt drop to the bed.

The genius ducked back down to kiss Greg again and both moaned at the skin-on-skin contact. Mycroft's hands went either side of Greg's head, fingers curling into the duvet as they kissed. He felt Greg's hands ghost up his thighs and hips before stroking up his ribs.

He moaned into Greg's mouth and Greg tilted his head, deepening the kiss at the new angle. They didn't move apart until the need for air became too great. Panting against his boyfriend, Greg's hands moved back down Mycroft's body and over his stomach. Mycroft watched, blue eyes dark with lust, as Greg's fingers trailed through the fine ginger hairs that went from his belly-button down to his groin.

Greg brushed the back of his hands over Mycroft's chest, delighted when he felt smooth skin. 'You shave again?' he asked.

'Wax,' Mycroft corrected. Greg raised an eyebrow. 'I went with Anthea,' Mycroft admitted.

Greg chuckled. 'I love it,' he said. 'So smooth...'

'I... may have waxed... somewhere else,' Mycroft said slowly.

'Oh yeah?' Greg asked, licking his lips. 'Where?'

'Downstairs.'

'Where downstairs?'

'Everywhere,' Mycroft said.

Greg groaned. 'Fuck, so you're completely smooth?' Mycroft nodded. 'Jesus, I'm gonna come without you touching me,' Greg moaned. Both his hands moved to Mycroft's chest and his thumbs circled Mycroft's nipples.

Mycroft moaned and arched his back, trying to get closer to Greg. Greg hauled himself up and attached himself to one nipple, sucking and biting, his tongue soothing over the little peak and the bite marks either side.

'Gregory,' Mycroft sighed and fisted one hand in Greg's hair. 'Keep doing that.'

'Whatever you want, love,' Greg mumbled.

Mycroft grinned at the term of endearment, remembering when Greg had first used it, and the conversation that had followed. He rolled his hips back and forth and felt the vibration of Greg's groan against his chest.

Greg pulled back and licked across Mycroft's smooth chest until he reached the other nipple, giving it the same attention as it's twin. Mycroft's fingers tightened in Greg's hair and Greg hissed, part in pain, part in pleasure.

When he let Mycroft's nipple go the red-head crushed their mouths together, their tongues not fighting for dominance, just twisting around each other, enjoying the dance. Slowly Mycroft pushed Greg back to the mattress and slowed the kiss down until he drew back.

'These jeans have to go,' he said.

'I'm one hundred percent okay with that,' Greg panted.

Mycroft chuckled and slinked down the bed. Greg bit his lip, watching as Mycroft tugged his belt free, followed by the button of his jeans being popped, the zipper pulled down. Greg raised his hips and helped Mycroft pull his jeans free, the garment being tossed aside.

Mycroft eyed the tight black boxer-briefs Greg was wearing. 'I like these,' he said and snapped the waistband.

'I thought you might,' Greg grinned. 'Gonna help me out of them?'

'Not yet,' Mycroft hummed. He palmed Greg's erection, smiling when the older teen whimpered, his head falling back to rest on the pillows. 'So hard,' Mycroft sighed, 'and just for me.'

'Always,' Greg grunted, his arse lifting into the air. 'God, Mycroft, I need more!'

Mycroft smiled and pulled back. Greg peeled his eyes open when Mycroft tugged his socks off, followed by his own. He then knelt at Greg's feet and Greg watched as is boyfriend's long, slender fingers toyed with his belt buckle, slowly undoing it, the leather sliding through his digits.

'Fuck,' Greg breathed out heavily.

Mycroft's smile widened and he popped the button of his jeans before pulling the zipper down. He wiggled his hips as he shimmied from the denim, and Greg bit his bottom lip _hard_ when he saw that Mycroft was wearing a tight pair of bright purple pants.

'Oh, I _definitely_ approve of these,' Greg grinned. Though he liked Mycroft in boxers or boxer-briefs, he _definitely_ enjoyed being able to see Mycroft's package outlined by bright purple cotton. 'Where'd you get these?'

Mycroft just shrugged and stood to kick his jeans free. He stood before Greg, hands on his hips, erection straining against his cotton underwear.

'Come here,' Greg said, holding a hand out.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'Is that an order?'

'Yes!' Greg growled.

Mycroft smiled and dropped back to his knees, then onto all fours. Greg moaned as Mycroft crawled up the bed and along his body until he was straddling Greg's lap. Without their jeans in the way, Greg could feel more of his boyfriend, and he groaned, thrusting up against Mycroft's covered arse.

Mycroft rocked himself back and forth, bottom lip caught between his teeth. From what Greg could see his eyes were entirely black, and his cock was straining to be freed. Greg was in the same position and grabbed Mycroft's arse, digging his fingers in.

Mycroft moaned and Greg said, 'You like that?'

'Mm-hmm,' Mycroft hummed, eyes sliding shut.

'I need you, completely naked,' Greg growled. 'Right now.'

'Yes,' Mycroft agreed and grabbed the waistband of his underwear. The two teenagers quickly shed their last pieces of clothing and fell onto the mattress together, their limbs tangled as they groped and kissed, their hips thrusting forward, moans stiffled by their joined mouths.

Eventually they broke apart long enough for Greg to grab the lube from the bedside table. He made Mycroft roll onto his side, one arm hooked under his right leg so Greg could get to his arse. The genius shivered when he felt wet fingers slide between his cheeks, and moaned when a well-lubed finger pushed in.

'You're always so tight,' Greg sighed from behind him. He leaned forward and peppered Mycroft's freckled shoulder with kisses.

'Please,' Mycroft whined and pushed back, 'more.'

'More?' Greg echoed. Mycroft nodded, so Greg pushed another finger in, soon followed by a third. When Mycroft was loose enough, Greg slicked his cock up and positioned himself at Mycroft's entrance. 'This position okay?' he asked.

'Yes, just get on with it!' Mycroft growled.

Greg chuckled. 'Yes, sir,' he whispered in Mycroft's ear before pushing in. He slid in slowly, Mycroft moaning and throwing his head back. Greg sank his teeth into Mycroft's shoulder when he bottomed out, and the two went still, Mycroft panting heavily, Greg licking Mycroft's shoulder. 'Gorgeous,' he said when he drew back. 'God, I love your freckles.'

'Mm,' Mycroft hummed, rocking his hips. 'I love the feeling of you inside me.'

'Oh yeah?'

'Yeah,' Mycroft echoed. 'But I can't wait to sink my cock into your arse.'

'Oh God,' Greg groaned and pulled out a little before thrusting in.

'You'll be so tight, won't you?' Mycroft asked. 'It's been months since someone fucked you.'

'You'd better make it good, then,' Greg said.

Mycroft chuckled and turned his head so he could look at Greg over his shoulder. 'You won't be able to walk for a week.'

Greg closed the distance between them and sealed their mouths together. Mycroft's breathing hitched as Greg started moving forward and back, sliding in and out of Mycroft's tight arse. Neither were in a hurry, at least not yet; they just enjoyed the smooth slide of their bodies, the sweat beading along their overheated skin, the way they swallowed each other's noises and breaths, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure.

Soon enough Mycroft was scratching at Greg's hip, fingers digging in as he tried to get Greg to move faster. 'Please,' he begged, head resting on Greg's shoulder. 'Faster.'

'Look at you,' Greg said as he sped up his movements. He pulled one of Mycroft's legs up to get better access, and Mycroft moaned. 'You're so fucking beautiful, Mycroft.' He tilted his hips slightly and moaned when Mycroft's muscles clamped around his cock.

'Fuck!' Mycroft groaned, his nails digging into Greg's skin. 'Right there, Greg.'

'Right there?' Greg echoed. 'Don't wanna draw it out?'

'Wanna come,' Mycroft moaned in response.

Greg chuckled and hit Mycroft's prostate again. The genius cried out, arching off of Greg's cock before impaling himself back down.

'Fuck, yeah, just like that,' Greg praised. 'Just like that, Mycroft.'

Their movements sped up, Mycroft thrusting back as best he could to get Greg deeper and deeper in. Greg planted his elbow on the bed and moved Mycroft's leg until it was draped over the crook of his arm. He pulled Mycroft's leg further up until his knee was almost pressed to his shoulder, and Mycroft swore harshly.

By now Greg was lunging into his boyfriend; he couldn't fight it any more. The need was building, quickly overtaking, and Mycroft's muscles were just getting tighter and tighter.

'Stroke yourself,' Greg said. 'I want you to come with me.'

Mycroft groaned as he wrapped his hand around his cock, quickly fisting his shaft and stroking faster and faster.

'That's it,' Greg said, 'fuck, Mycroft, you make me so hard, I'm gonna fucking come.'

'Please!' Mycroft moaned. 'I wanna feel you... p-please...'

Greg fucked Mycroft as hard as he could, the room filled with their heavy breathing, the sound of skin slapping against skin. Mycroft was moaning, groaning, and muttering curses under his breath, his voice getting higher and higher as he crashed towards his orgasm.

Finally Greg felt Mycroft's muscles tightened, becoming a heated, vice-like grip around his dick. 'Greg!' Mycroft's moan was long and drawn out as he came, thick threads of white dripping onto the sheets and down his fist. Mycroft stroked himself through his orgasm before stopping all together, entire body feeling boneless in Greg's grip.

Greg only managed a few more thrusts before he slammed himself into Mycroft, coming deep inside him with Mycroft's name on his tongue. The two panted together, their hearts threatening to beat right out of their chests, their bodies on fire.

Slowly, Greg drew back, sliding out of Mycroft gently. He flopped back onto the mattress with a moan and heard Mycroft fall beside him. He turned to look and chuckled; Mycroft was laying on his stomach, apparently not caring that he was covered in his own come.

'Gotta clean up,' Greg murmured.

'Nn,' Mycroft grunted in response.

'Tissues in the bedside table?' Greg asked. Mycroft nodded and Greg pulled himself up and over his boyfriend.

He grabbed the tissues and cleaned them up, dropping them and the bottle of lube on the table out of the way. He laid back down and Mycroft snuggled into his side, eyes closed, breath evening out. They laid together in silence until their bodies began to cool, their chests no longer heaving.

Greg shivered when the sweat on his body cooled rapidly and said, 'M'cold; can we get under the blankets?'

Mycroft chuckled and they both shuffled about- Greg pouting at having to move- until they were cuddled together under Mycroft's thick duvet.

They settled down together, Greg with his head on Mycroft's chest, Mycroft with an arm wrapped around Greg loosely. He was stroking Greg's arm and Greg hummed at the soft contact and rubbed his cheek against Myroft's chest.

Mycroft looked down at Greg and a stupid grin spread across his face. He always loved these moments; just the two of them, relaxing together, no need to talk or do anything but just... _be_.

And, like every other time, they would have slowly drifted off to sleep or kissed again and have it turn into another round of mind-blowing sex...

... but as it was, Siger Holmes chose that moment to walk into the room.


	66. I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** I'm Not Okay (I Promise) by My Chemical Romance
> 
> **Author's Note:** I'm so sorry for the long wait! Long story short; I'm poor, I ran out of internet credit, and I had no access to update. But I've got some now and here's the chapter. Thank you for your continued support!
> 
> {Dreamer}

'What the hell is this!' the elder Holmes shouted.

Mycroft's eyes snapped open and he leapt into a sitting position. He sent Greg flying and the brunette grunted as he hit the mattress and scrambled up.

'Father,' Mycroft gasped. His eyes went wide and his heart rate skyrocketed. No. No, no, no, no, _nooo_. This couldn't be happening! 'What... what are you doing home?' Mycroft choked out.

'My business meetings were cancelled,' Siger growled. 'What the fuck are you doing in bed with _him_?!'

'I... we...'

Greg looked from his boyfriend, who was pale white and gaping, to Siger Holmes, who was quickly turning the colour of a tomato. His face was was contorting into a mixture of fury and disgust.

'What the fuck are you doing?' Siger roared again.

Mycroft was up like lightening. He rushed out of the bed and grabbed his jeans, tugging them on and forgoing his underwear. He threw Greg's jeans at him and Greg pulled them on under the blankets.

'We were... we...' Mycroft tried.

Suddenly he froze and stared at his father. What was he doing? Why couldn't he just answer? Mycroft didn't care what his father thought! He was proud of himself, and of his relationship with Gregory.

Taking a deep breath, Mycroft steeled himself and stared defiantly at his father. 'This is Gregory, my boyfriend. We were resting in bed after having sex. Yes, Father, I'm gay.'

Siger was stunned. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as he stared at his son. Greg looked between them before slowly sliding out of bed. If Siger got violent Greg wanted to be up so he could protect Mycroft.

Finally Siger seemed to find his voice and very, very quietly asked, 'What... did you just... say?'

'I'm gay,' Mycroft repeated, 'I'm dating Gregory and we're having sex. Did you not hear me?'

Siger's eyes narrowed. 'You're telling me that you're a fag and you did vile, un-natural... _things_ , in my house, with this boy?!' He pointed an accusing finger at Greg, who started looking for his shirt.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'Gregory and I have sex. So what?'

'How dare you!' Siger snarled. 'How fucking dare you do anything that _sick_ in my house! I didn't raise you to be a fucking fairy!'

'Well, I am,' Mycroft said. He didn't raise his voice, merely stared at his father like he was... nothing.

'You little fucking-'

'Fairy, yes, I get it,' Mycroft interrupted. 'Was there anything else?'

'I will _not_ have some fucking faggot in my house!' Siger roared.

Greg gulped before looking at Mycroft, the younger teenager's eyes narrowing, fingers curled into fists. He was still half-naked but didn't seem to care as he stood tall, taking deep breaths.

'Fine,' Mycroft finally said.

Siger raised an eyebrow. 'Fine?' he echoed.

'Yeah, fine,' Mycroft said. 'Don't worry, I won't be in your house much longer.'

He turned to grab his shirt, tugging it on as Siger said, 'What do you mean?'

'I mean what I said,' Mycroft snapped, turning to once again glare at his father. 'You don't want any fairies in your house, I got that. So I'm gone, leaving, moving out. You won't have to look at me.'

'Mycroft!' Siger snarled as the younger Holmes went to his wardrobe. Mycroft ignored his dad, instead grabbing a bag and shoving clothes in. 'Stop, now!'

'Why?' Mycroft demanded, back to the older man. 'You made yourself clear.'

'If you walk out now you'll never be welcome back,' Siger said. 'If you don't change now I'll never again acknowledge you as my son.'

Mycroft laughed loudly, but it was a haunting sound that made Greg gulp from beside the bed. 'Acknowledge me?' Mycroft demanded, storming out of the wardrobe. 'The only times you ever acknowledge me is when you mouth off to your investors and fucking golf buddies about my intelligence or school work! Every other day you ignore me, like I'm a fucking house cat! No, a cat would get better treatment from you!'

'Don't you dare-' Siger began, but Mycroft cut him off.

'You treat Sherlock and me like furniture!' Mycroft shouted. 'So what difference will it make if you suddenly stop talking to me now, huh? What fucking difference will it make, Siger?'

'Mycroft-' Siger tried again.

'I'm gay,' Mycroft butted in, 'and nothing is going to change that. I'm not going to deny who I am just because _you_ have a problem with gay people. I'm sexually attracted to men; I was born like this, it's who I am, and I'll _die_ like this. Nothing you can say or do will make me stop living my life the way I want. So fuck you. You can take your fucking name, your fucking money, and your _fucking_ acknowledgement, and shove it up your fucking arse!'

Mycroft disappeared back into the wardrobe, Siger seething as he stared at the open doors. Greg quickly finished getting dressed and grabbed his stuff, edging towards the door to wait for his boyfriend.

When Mycroft re-appeared his bag was bulging with stuff and he had another one thrown over his shoulder. He completely ignored Siger, who was still glaring, as he tugged his Chucks on and grabbed his phone and wallet.

'I'll be back for the rest of my stuff,' Mycroft said coldly, eyes like steel as they rested on his father. 'Don't try to get rid of any of it, or I'll make your life a living hell.'

Siger opened his mouth but Mycroft wasn't waiting for an answer. He stormed past the older man and out the door, Greg following quickly.

Unfortunately it seemed Siger wasn't letting Mycroft go without a fight and he followed them down the hallway and stairs. The lights were all turned on and Greg was mortified to see Meghan and Sherlock in the sitting room, meaning Mr Andrew and Mrs Hudson were around. Meghan must have cancelled her own plans when Siger's business trip was cancelled, and no doubt Sherlock had been dragged home with Meghan, pouting the entire way because his plans in London were ruined.

When Greg and Mycroft reached the main entrance, Siger started shouting again.

'Is this what you really want, Mycroft?' he demanded. 'You're going to throw your entire life away for some boy?'

Mycroft stopped and turned, eyes flashing dangerously. 'I'm not throwing my life away!' he shouted. 'Greg's who I want to be with and he knows who I am! I have actual friends, people who care about _me_ , not who they expect me to be! I have money, businesses, and I do well in school. I haven't needed you since I was fifteen and I don't plan on changing that!'

Sherlock and Meghan had appeared halfway through Mycroft's words and stood staring between Mycroft and Siger.

Siger spotted them and turned, hands gesturing widely. 'Did you know about this?' he demanded.

'Know what?' Meghan asked.

'That our son was a sick fag?'

Meghan's eyes widened and Sherlock looked at Mycroft, who shook his head slightly. Sherlock frowned, Mycroft glared, and finally the younger Holmes huffed and folded his arms.

'Mycroft...' Meghan said, looking at her eldest son. 'Is this true?'

'No,' Mycroft said. 'I'm not a sick fag, I'm gay. I'm not lying any more; I'm gay, I like men, and Greg's my boyfriend.' Greg blushed as all eyes briefly turned to him. 'I'm not lying any more,' Mycroft repeated, 'and I'm not staying here with a man who hates who I am. So Mother, Sherlock, I'll be in touch.'

He turned and marched to the doors, ripping them open and stepping outside.

'You'll never set foot in this house again!' Siger promised.

Mycroft turned to glare at him as Greg shuffled out after him. 'I don't plan to!' he spat before slamming the doors shut.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mycroft didn't say anything as Greg drove. The auburn-haired teen was too wound up to be safe behind the wheel, so he sat fuming and twitching in the passenger seat, eyes narrowed, entire body tense.

Greg didn't know what to do or say, so he kept quiet as he drove Mycroft's Jaguar to his house.; he could pick up his bike tomorrow when they went back for Mycroft's stuff. When they reached Greg's house Mycroft leapt from the seat and slammed the door shut, Greg following quickly.

'Mycroft,' he tried, but the teenager ignored him as he stormed into the house.

Maggie was sitting on the sofa and looked up as Mycroft passed. 'What's wrong?' she asked when Greg appeared. 'I thought you were staying at Mycroft's?'

Greg sighed and rubbed his face. 'Siger Holmes caught us in bed together.'

'What?' Maggie said, standing quickly.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, sighing again. 'He and Mycroft had it out. Mr Holmes called him a fag and kicked him out, said he'd never again acknowledge Mycroft as his son. Mycroft just walked out.' He chewed on his lip and looked down the hallway.

'Mycroft can tell me more if he wants later,' Maggie said. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. 'Go be with your boyfriend. And tell him he's welcome to stay here as long as he wants.'

'Thanks, Mum,' Greg smiled weakly. He quickly walked down the hallway and to his bedroom, pushing the door open. Mycroft was curled up on the bed, back to Greg, arms wrapped around his legs.

Greg closed the door and pulled his shoes, jeans, and shirt off, climbing onto the bed in his underwear. When he got closer he realised Mycroft was shaking and touched him softly.

Mycroft rolled over and buried himself in Greg's arms, sobbing loudly as Greg pulled him closer.

'Shh, it's okay,' Greg whispered. 'I'm here, Mycroft, it's alright.'

Mycroft just cried harder and Greg held him tighter.

'I...' Mycroft tried, but his voice was overshadowed by his sobs. 'G-Gregory...'

'I'm here,' Greg promised again.

'D-Don't l-leave... p-please,' Mycroft gasped through his tears.

'I'll never leave you, Mycroft,' Greg said. 'I promised you weeks ago and nothing's changed, alright? I'll never leave you.'

Mycroft clung to him tightly and burrowed as far as he could into Greg's body. Greg continued to shush him, even when Mycroft's sobs turned into sniffles, quickly followed by heavy breathing as he tired himself out and fell asleep.

Greg still laid there, letting Mycroft cling to him tightly. He wasn't going anywhere; he'd hold Mycroft for as long as the other teenager needed.


	67. In The Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** In The Morning by The Living End

Greg wasn't aware he'd fallen asleep until he woke up early the next morning. He yawned widely and glanced at his alarm clock, which read 7:45. Way too early to be up on a Sunday.

Greg shifted a bit in bed and realised he wasn't alone. He glanced down and smiled when he saw Mycroft. The younger teen had stretched out a bit sometime during the night but he was still curled into Greg, hands pressed warmly against Greg's chest. His head was resting on Greg's right bicep, while Greg's left arm was draped over his waist.

Someone- most likely Maggie- had draped the spare duvet from the hall closet over them and the two were snuggled up together, nice and warm.

Greg sighed when he remembered the previous night; a nice afternoon together, dinner, and fantastic sex, followed by Siger Holmes ranting and raving like a lunatic and kicking Mycroft out. Well, Mycroft _walked_ out; because Greg knew his boyfriend didn't want to stay in the same house as a man who hated him for the simple fact that he was gay.

Greg was still lost in thought when Mycroft shifted awake. He blinked owlishly and looked up at Greg, frowning when he realised he was in the older teenager's bed. Mycroft looked exhausted; his auburn hair was all over the place, he had dark bags under his red-rimmed eyes, and his skin was pale.

Greg still thought he was adorable and sexy and made sure Mycroft knew it when he leaned over to kiss the younger boy awake.

'Morning,' Mycroft mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

'Mornin',' Greg echoed. 'You sleep okay?'

'Um... sorta,' Mycroft said. He yawned and looked back at Greg. 'I like sleeping in your arms.'

Greg grinned. 'I like you cuddling into me; very cute.'

'I don't _cuddle_ ,' Mycroft frowned.

'Yeah ya do.'

Mycroft slapped Greg's chest but it was half-hearted, and soon he was resting back against Greg.

'How are you doing?' Greg asked.

'Fine.'

'Mycroft,' Greg said softly. He felt his partner tense. 'How are you, really?'

Mycroft was silent until he let out a long breath that tickled Greg's neck. 'I'm... I don't know,' Mycroft mumbled. 'I hate what happened, what my father said. I hate that I literally had to storm out of my own home because my father can't stand the sight of me. I hate that I left Sherlock behind without a proper explanation, and I hate that my father treated you like that.'

He paused to take a breath, tongue darting along his lips.

'I love that you were there for me,' he continued softly. 'I love that your mother let me stay here without asking for a reason. I love that you held me all through the night. I love that you care enough about me to ask how I am. And...' he trailed off and sat up so he was looking into Greg's eyes. 'I love that I have you in my life.'

Greg smiled and closed the gap between them, kissing Mycroft gently. 'I'll be in your life as long as you want me,' he said. Mycroft smiled back. 'So, um... do we have a plan?'

'Plan?' Mycroft echoed in confusion.

'Well, I'm guessing you aren't goin' back home, except for your stuff,' Greg said. 'So...'

Mycroft sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. 'I suppose I'll find a flat or house-'

'You can stay here,' Greg blurted.

Mycroft inclined an eyebrow. 'Excuse me?'

'You can... you know, stay here,' Greg said.

Mycroft blinked before saying, 'You mean... live here?' Greg nodded. 'With you and your mother?' Another nod from Greg. 'Forever?'

'Mum already said you could stay last night.'

'I'm sure she didn't mean forever.'

'Just think about it, okay?' Greg asked. 'If my mum says it's okay, can you just think about it? I hate the thought of you living somewhere by yourself.'

'I know how to take care of myself, Greg,' Mycroft said.

Greg smiled and threaded his fingers through Mycroft's hair, Mycroft leaning into the touch. 'I know,' he said softly, 'but I'd much prefer you sleep in my arms every night.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'You're such a sap.'

'Am not!'

'Are too!'

Mycroft threw himself at Greg and they hit the bed, which hit the wall with a loud _thud_. Greg giggled as Mycroft started tickling him. Greg tried to buck Mycroft off, his entire body twisting and arching as Mycroft's fingers dug into his ribs.

'S-Stop... ahaha... no, Mikey!' Greg shrieked. 'S-S-S... ahahaha!'

Before Greg could call for mercy, the bedroom door opened and Maggie stepped in. Mycroft immediately moved back, sitting on the bed, as Greg himself sat up. The two were breathing heavily, Greg red-faced, and Mycroft was still wearing the jeans and shirt he'd thrown on when leaving home, while Greg just had his underwear on.

Maggie smiled as she drew her dressing gown further around her. 'So, you two are up.'

'Y-Yeah,' Greg gasped, still trying to catch his breath.

'Stop shouting, you'll wake the neighbours,' Maggie tsked before turning to Mycroft. 'Come on, you two, breakfast.'

She left them alone to get dressed and Greg let Mycroft borrow a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a sweater. They joined Maggie in the kitchen and there was silence apart from the three preparing breakfast.

When they all sat with a plate of toast and warm muffins, Maggie got right into it.

'So, what happened?'

Greg glanced at Mycroft, who stared at his plate as he answered.

'My father caught Gregory and me in bed together. We had an argument and my father kicked me out.' Maggie's face instantly filled with sadness. 'Not that it matters, I don't want to live there,' Mycroft continued. 'I can't stand living in a house where I have to hide who I am. And my father hates me because I'm gay; I can't handle that kind of existence any more.'

'Of course not, Mycroft,' Maggie said, reaching across the table. She squeezed Mycroft's hand. 'You're very brave to have lived the way you did for seventeen years. Your father can sod off if he thinks you're anything other than an amazing young man.'

Mycroft smiled weakly and Greg rubbed his thigh under the table.

'So you're moving out?' Maggie asked.

Mycroft nodded. 'I'm not sure where yet,' he admitted. 'I have enough money to buy a flat, or even a house. I suppose I'll put all my stuff in storage until I find something.'

'You can stay here if you want,' Maggie said.

Mycroft glanced at Greg, who gave him an "I told you so" look, before his eyes went back to Maggie. 'R-Really?' he asked.

Maggie nodded. 'I don't like the idea of you being all alone, Mycroft,' she said. 'I know you're seventeen and can take care of yourself, but you're going through a hard time right now. Plus you're doing your A-Levels; you shouldn't have to worry about grocery shopping and bills. You can stay here until you go to university if you want.'

Mycroft continued to stare at her before saying, 'You're serious?' Maggie nodded. 'You... you'd let me move in here, just like that?'

'You're Greg's boyfriend, that makes you family,' Maggie shrugged. 'I'd love to have you here.'

Mycroft wet his lips slowly and Greg felt his heart skip a beat; he wanted Mycroft to say yes. _Please say yes_ , he begged silently. He could come home every day to Mycroft. They could do homework together, watch TV, do the housework and eat meals. And, most importantly, they could cuddle up in bed, wrapped in each other's arms.

'If I do...' Mycroft said slowly, 'I want to contribute to bills.' Maggie opened her mouth to interrupt but Mycroft continued quickly, 'It's the least I could do, Margaret. You don't have a lot of money as it is, and suddenly having another mouth to feed will be difficult. I have plenty of money, I can help pay for bills and food, I can help around the house... please?'

Maggie stared at Mycroft for a long time before realising the teenager wasn't going to back down. Finally she nodded and said, 'Okay.'

Mycroft reached across the table, holding his hand out, and he and Maggie shook on it. Greg grinned and kissed Mycroft on the cheek.

'We have some house rules,' Maggie said, drawing both teenagers' attention. 'I can't stop you smoking or drinking, Mycroft, as you're not my son,' Maggie said. 'But I ask you not to smoke or drink in the house. When you turn eighteen you can drink, but there's no smoking inside, okay?'

Mycroft nodded.

'You can smoke outside if you wish,' Maggie continued. 'You don't have a bedtime, but on weeknights I ask that you be in the house by ten, in your bedroom by midnight. You can stay up if you want but don't complain to me when you're tired the next day.'

Mycroft nodded again. 'Sounds acceptable,' he smiled.

'You and Greg are out the door half-an-hour before classes start on week days, on weekends you're free to do what you want,' Maggie said. 'Sometimes I work night shifts at the hospital and I won't be home when you get here. There's always food in the fridge, feel free to make something. Sometimes I leave money and you can order in.

'No parties,' Maggie continued, 'if you invite people over it has to go past me, and you and Greg will go to the hardware store today.'

Mycroft frowned and Greg said, 'Hardware store?'

'Get a lock for the bedroom door,' Maggie said, smiling when Greg blushed. 'Mycroft, you don't mind sharing a room with Greg?'

'Not at all,' Mycroft shook his head. 'Though... could we buy a new bed? Gregory's isn't very big. I'll pay, of course.'

'If you want,' Maggie nodded.

'Awesome; mattress testing with my boyfriend,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft chuckled.

'Are we gonna go get your stuff today?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded as he picked at his toast. 'The sooner the better,' he said. 'I don't want my father trying to throw all my stuff out. And we have to get your bike.'

'Do you need any help?' Maggie asked.

Before Mycroft could answer, Greg said, 'How about I call Dimmock and Molly?'

'Are you sure they won't mind?' Mycroft asked. Greg shook his head. 'Very well,' Mycroft said. 'I'll also call Anthea.'

'Will all your stuff fit in my bedroom?' Greg asked.

Mycroft tilted his head as he thought. 'No, it won't, but most of what I own I don't use,' he said. 'I can bring my laptop, guitars, my favourite books, and my school stuff. Some of my clothes and other belongings can go into storage until I figure out what to do with it all. I don't really want to keep the clothes I had to wear to impress my parents.'

Greg nodded and tore into his toast. 'We'll head over after breakfast,' he said through a mouthful.

'We can stop and buy some boxes, tape, things like that,' Mycroft said, going back to his own plate.

Maggie smiled as she watched the two boys plan the day out. She'd never imagined that Greg and Mycroft would be a good fit but the proof was right here; the two were absolutely perfect together.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


When they pulled up at the Manor, Greg was surprised to not only find Dimmock and Molly there, but Anthea, Sally, BJ Masters, Lily Hooper, Alex Schofield, _and_ Joe.

'What the-' he began, but Joe cut him off.

'Dimmo called me,' he said.

'We figured we'd help,' Lily grinned. 'Molly practically ran out the door after breakfast and I said, "No, sis, I _gotta_ help my homies, I'm coming!"'

'You are _such_ an idiot,' Alex rolled her eyes.

Greg grinned broadly. 'Cheers,' he said.

'You don't have to,' Mycroft added.

BJ shrugged. 'Anthea gave us a call, we figured you could use all the help.'

'You're Greg's boyfriend,' Sally added. 'Or boy toy.'

'Oi!' Greg growled.

'Gregory's _my_ boy toy,' Mycroft said, smirking at the dramatic huff Greg gave. He leaned over and kissed his boyfriend's cheek. 'I was joking, dear.'

'Sure, sure,' Greg muttered.

Mycroft ran a hand through his hair and looked up at the manor. 'Let's get this over with,' he said.

The others all followed him and Greg to the house, and Greg reached out to grab Mycroft's hand. He linked their fingers and squeezed when Mycroft looked at him. Mycroft gave a hesitant smile before pushing the door open.

Mrs Hudson and Meghan were both there and they exited the sitting room when they heard the footsteps in the foyer. Meghan pursed her lips but Mrs Hudson rushed forward to engulf Mycroft in a hug, forcing Greg to let his hand go.

'Oh, are you okay, dear?' Mrs Hudson asked. She pulled back and ran a hand through Mycroft's hair.

'I'm fine,' Mycroft said while behind him BJ and Joe snickered, and Lily said, 'Aww!'

'Are you sure?' Mrs Hudson asked.

Mycroft glanced past her to his mother, who still hadn't said anything. He swallowed thickly and said, 'Yes. I'm just here for my things.'

Meghan finally spoke, 'Your father's home.'

'So?' Mycroft muttered. 'I don't want to speak to him.'

'He said not to let you in,' Meghan continued.

Greg glared at her while Mycroft said, 'I. Don't. _Care_.' He pulled back from Mrs Hudson. 'I'm just here for my stuff.'

Greg indicated for the others to follow him- Dimmock, BJ, Joe and Alex all with arm-fulls of boxes while Molly and Sally were carrying tape- but just as they reached the stairs Siger Holmes appeared at the landing.

'What the hell are you doing here?' he demanded.

Mycroft glared up at him. 'I'm here for my things,' he repeated. 'I told you I'd be back for them.'

'And I told you to get out of my house,' Siger said.

Mycroft climbed the stairs anyway and his friends followed behind. 'I'm getting my things and then you'll never have to hear from me again.'

Siger sneered as Mycroft reached the landing. 'Never hear from you again, huh?' the older man asked. 'And when you're out on your arse starving, with no bloody future, and a heap of diseases from your disgusting _boyfriend_ -' he shot a disgusted look at Greg, and Dimmock put a hand on his best friend's shoulder to stop him hitting the man, '- who will you go to?'

'I already have a home, for your information,' Mycroft told him. 'I have money, I'm going to university when I graduate, and Gregory and I are both clean. So I think I'll be just fine.'

'What, with the money from your little _businesses_?' Siger asked, sneering at the last word. 'You have no idea what it takes to make yourself successful.'

'You really are an idiot,' Mycroft commented and stepped closer, facing off his father. Siger took a step back, seeming to only just realise that his son was the same height as him. 'I have almost as much money as _you_ ,' Mycroft told him. 'And I'm only seventeen. Give me five years and I'll be far wealthier than you. I have more contacts than you, more _friends_ than you, and let's not forget the fact that I'm twice as smart as you.'

Siger opened his mouth to argue but Mycroft talked over him.

' _You_ have absolutely no fucking clue who I am!' Mycroft spat. 'I own businesses, clubs, restaurants, websites! I've quadrupled my trust fund fifteen times faster than you did when you were my age! You've gambled half your money away and spent the other half keeping this stupid house and all your fucking club memberships!'

'How dare you-' Siger began, but Mycroft was on a good roll.

'How dare _I_?' he snarled. 'You've never had any interest in me! I'm like a piece of fucking furniture to you! You've never given a shit what I do or say, you have no idea who I am!'

'I know what you are,' Siger shouted, 'a fucking _faggot_!'

'So _what_?' Mycroft said equally loudly. 'So what if I sleep with men? What fucking difference does it make? You didn't care about me before, why does this change anything?'

'I won't have a fucking fairy in my house _or_ as my son!' Siger snarled.

'Well you're getting your fucking wish!' Mycroft growled. 'Because I'm not staying here and I'm _not_ your son! You'll never fucking here from me again, you prick!'

'Mycroft, come on,' Greg said, finally stepping forward. He touched Mycroft's shoulder and Siger glared at him.

'You're throwing your goddamn life away for some guy?' Siger demanded. Mycroft's blue eyes darkened in anger.

'I'm not throwing my life away,' he hissed. 'I'm still going to university, I'm still making something of myself. But now I've got someone who actually gives a shit about me.'

'You think he cares about you?' Siger snorted. 'He wants what every teenage guy wants, Mycroft; sex. You're an easy screw for him, nothing more.'

'He is not!' Greg shouted, his temper finally snapping. 'He's my fucking boyfriend and I care about him, more than you do! I know him, you don't!'

'Please,' Siger scoffed.

'Get out of my way,' Mycroft said, suddenly having enough; he couldn't handle his father any more. 'I'm packing my things and leaving.'

Siger looked him over carefully before snorting. 'Fine, get your shit,' he said. 'The sooner you're gone the better.'

'My feelings exactly,' Mycroft grunted. He pushed past his father and the others followed, all shooting various glares and frowns at the elder Holmes. When they reached Mycroft's room the genius slammed his bedroom door shut loudly, making everyone jump.

'Well,' Molly cleared her throat. 'He's a bastard.'

'Fuckin' prick, more like,' BJ commented.

'Dimmo, he's worse than your dad,' Joe said.

'Yeah,' Dimmock said, looking at Mycroft with worry in his eyes.

'Hey, Myc,' Greg said softly, coming up behind his boyfriend, who was staring at the door. He wrapped his arms tightly around Mycroft's waist from behind, hugging him. 'It's okay.'

'How is it?' Mycroft asked.

'You've got me,' Greg told him. 'You've got all of us. I know it hurts, but we're here for you.'

He felt Mycroft tense before immediately melting, touching Greg's hands. He squeezed the brunette's fingers. 'Thank you.'

'No worries,' Greg said. He pecked Mycroft on the cheek and continued to hold him.

'Alright, stop staring,' Sally broke the silence.

'But they're adorable!' Lily whined.

'Let's get to work,' Alex said, ignoring her best friend.

Mycroft pulled away from Greg and wiped his eyes quickly. 'Most of the stuff I want is in my secret room.'

'Secret room?' Dimmock asked.

Greg grinned. 'Dimmo, you're gonna _love_ it,' he told his best mate.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


It only took them three hours to pack everything; CDs, books, clothes, sheets, pillows, and various odds and ends all went into boxes, while Mycroft's guitars were put in their cases and stacked against the door. Joe, Dimmock, and BJ were all going to carry Mycroft's desk- they were swapping Greg's for it because it was big enough for the two to share.

Mycroft and Greg pulled down all the posters and rolled them up, while Molly, Sally and Anthea kept note of what was going where, marking everything so Mycroft and Greg could easily unpack later. Lily and Alex were in charge of the books, and Alex spent half the time shouting at Lily to _place them_ in the boxes, not throw them.

'You takin' everything?' BJ asked.

'No, some of it's going into storage,' Mycroft told him. 'I was going to lease a storage unit, but Gregory's mother said there was room in the garage.'

'Well, we can load BJ's truck with the furniture,' Anthea said, 'while the boxes of stuff can be divided between Mycroft's Jag, Molly's Holden, and Alex's truck.'

'I've gotta ride my bike back, so you can stuff things into the passenger seat of Mycroft's car,' Greg told them. 'At my place we'll just unload everything, me and Mycroft are buying pizza to thank everyone, and then you lot can shove off.'

'Oh, _that's_ nice!' Lily huffed dramatically. 'Get us to do your labour, then just push us out?'

'Hey, I've almost finished reading _The Hobbit_ ,' Alex said. 'They can shove all they want, I have books to read.'

'Thank you,' Mycroft said suddenly, drawing everyone's attention. 'Thank you for doing this.'

'Eh, no worries,' Joe shrugged, 'that's what friends are for.'

'And we're getting pizza at Greg's,' Sally grinned.

'We still need a new bed,' Mycroft reminded his boyfriend.

Sally whistled loudly and Molly giggled. 'A new bed, huh?' Dimmock grinned. 'Gonna go mattress testing?'

'Shut it,' Greg blushed, but only because that's _exactly_ what he wanted to do with Mycroft.

'You don't need any help with that?' Molly asked.

'No, we're gonna go buy it before unpacking everything, so we can set Mycroft's stuff up around the bed,' Greg said. 'We're hoping a little extra money will get it delivered today.'

'You can take my truck,' BJ offered. 'That way you can take it when you buy it.'

'Yeah?' Greg asked.

BJ nodded. 'Dimmock can give me a lift home, just drop my truck off when you're done.'

'Are you sure?' Mycroft asked. When BJ nodded again, Mycroft said, 'Thank you, Benjamin.'

They quickly got back to work, and in another twenty minutes had everything Mycroft wanted to take with him packed up. The group all grabbed various boxes and started walking back downstairs. Meghan was in the sitting room and watched from the plush sofa as her son's things were taken. Mycroft briefly wondered where Sherlock was but decided to text him later; he really didn't want to speak to his mother.

Another hour had Mycroft's Jag packed, as well as Molly's little Holden, and Alex's truck. Mycroft's desk and dresser were both loaded into BJ's truck. Molly and Dimmock headed off first, followed by Alex and Lily, BJ and Sally, and Anthea with Mycroft.

Greg started his bike and pulled out of the garage. He threw one last look at Holmes Manor before snorting and taking off. _Mycroft's better off without that place,_ Greg thought as he pulled onto the road.


	68. Long Live The Weekend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Long Live The Weekend by The Living End

When they got to Greg's, Maggie was home and Doctor Phil was there too. Greg raised his eyebrows at that, but decided not to question the extra set of hands. Together they unpacked the cars and stacked everything in the garage. Maggie then ordered pizza, and the group settled into the sitting room.

Greg found himself sitting beside Doctor Phil. 'Thank you,' he said.

'Not a problem,' the man replied. 'Your mother called and told me what happened. I came over to show my support.'

'Still...' Greg said and offered the man a small smile, 'thank you. I really appreciate it.'

Phil smiled in return. 'No worries, Greg.'

Greg then busied himself playing host, his friends ordering him around and throwing pillows at him when he told them to piss off. Mycroft was seated on the sofa between Anthea and Lily, who were taking his mind off everything by being weird. BJ and Joe fought over who's drink Greg was going to get first, while Dimmock, Molly and Sally were trying to decide what DVD to watch. Alex had pulled a small, battered copy of _Casino Royale_ out of her jeans pocket and was sitting in the corner reading.

'I thought you were reading _The Hobbit_?' Lily asked.

' _The Hobbit_ doesn't fit in my jeans pocket,' Alex murmured, not drawing her eyes away from her novel.

'You're weird,' Lily commented.

' _You're_ weird!' Alex shot back.

Lily snickered and bounced over to her side before sitting. She leaned over her best friend to read with her and the two fell into silence. 

Phil watched from first the sofa, then the kitchen doorway. Maggie stopped next to him, and Greg was close enough to hear their conversation.

'I've never seen the house so full,' Maggie commented.

Phil looked at her. 'No?'

The woman shook her head. 'Greg's always been popular, but Michael- or Dimmock, as he likes to be called- has always been his best friend. Joe and Dylan came over sometimes, but it was mostly just Michael.' She smiled softly. 'I worried about him a lot but... he's changed since getting together with Mycroft.'

'How so?' Phil questioned.

'He doesn't stuff around as much,' Maggie told him. 'He's more focused on his school work and his future. He's always been a great kid, just a little rough around the edges.' She sighed and leaned her head against Phil's shoulder. 'I don't worry about him as much as I used to. He's grown up a lot in the past few months. I don't think any mother could ask for a better son.'

Phil smiled and kissed her temple, while Greg pushed himself away from BJ and headed for the couch. He shoved Lily aside, who squawked and flapped her hands about dramatically, but eventually moved and let Greg sit next to his boyfriend.

Anthea smiled at them both and squeezed Mycroft's leg before turning to talk to Sally. 'Okay there?' Greg asked.

'I think I should be asking you that,' Mycroft replied.

'What do you mean?' Greg frowned.

'You look like you've got something on your mind,' Mycroft shrugged.

Greg smiled and leaned against him. 'You know me so well.'

'I do,' Mycroft agreed.

'Just... somethin' Mum said,' Greg shrugged. 'Nothin' important.'

'No?'

'Nah,' Greg shook his head. He glanced around Mycroft to see Maggie and Phil laughing about something. Greg hadn't seen his mum that happy in a long time. 'Nah,' he repeated and smiled at Mycroft. 'Everythin's fine.'

Mycroft smiled and kissed his cheek.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


When the pizzas had been delivered and eaten, and two episodes of NCIS watched and commentated on, the group all got up, helped clean up, and headed out. Greg and Mycroft still had to go buy a bed, and Mycroft wanted it done as soon as possible. Greg suspected that his boyfriend wanted to move in and get everything set up quickly so he wouldn't have to think about what had happened. Greg didn't mind; he wanted all of Mycroft's stuff in his- no, _their room_ \- too.

So after Joe had finally left, taking BJ with him, Greg and Mycroft hopped into BJ's truck and headed off. Doctor Phil had stayed behind, having offered to help drag Greg's old bed out and help put the new one together. Greg was liking him more and more with each passing minute.

They listened to the CDs in BJ's glove box, laughing when they found a Taylor Swift CD in a System Of A Down case. Eventually they pulled up in front of the furniture store Mycroft had Googled earlier, and in next to no time they were walking down brightly lit aisles, looking around at all the beds on display.

Greg found furniture shopping with Mycroft rather easy. Neither wanted a metal bed, or anything fancy. Mycroft had had to put up with a canopy bed his entire life and wanted something simple. Greg had a lot of fun climbing the bunk beds in the children's area, and Mycroft had to apologise over and over again to the employees.

They eventually settled on a queen-sized bed that had two drawers set into either side of the base. It was made of a milk chocolate-coloured wood with a short headboard. It came with two beside tables, also the colour of milk chocolate, with two drawers each. Mycroft even bought two new lamps because Greg's was old and Mycroft's had been left behind at Holmes Manor.

The bed would just fit into Greg's room along with the desk if they took out Greg's dresser and only used Mycroft's slightly bigger one. The drawers beneath the bed would help with storing Mycroft's books, as well as some of Greg's CDs and magazines.

After picking out the bed, Greg and Mycroft wandered over to the mattresses, Greg grinning from ear-to-ear.

'Really, Gregory?' Mycroft asked. 'Why are you so excited by this?'

'Mattress testing,' Greg grinned and jumped onto one. He bounced up and down. 'You, me, bed... what more could I want?'

'We can't get naked and have sex in the store,' Mycroft tsked.

'Why not?' Greg pouted.

Rolling his eyes, Mycroft glanced at the mattress. 'That's a king-size.'

'Oh,' Greg hummed. 'Well lead the way, my queen.'

Mycroft snorted. 'You're lucky you're pretty,' he commented before walking away. Greg grinned and bounced to his feet, following after his boyfriend.

'How about this one?' Greg said and pointed to the first queen-sized mattress he saw.

'You have to test it, Gregory,' Mycroft said. 'Lie down on it, see if it's comfortable.'

'Right-e-o,' Greg hummed and jumped onto the mattress. He bounced a few times before crawling over to the right side and laying back.

'Well?' Mycroft asked.

'Um... kinda soft,' Greg said. 'I don't like mattresses that are too soft.'

'No?'

Greg shook his head. 'Not too hard, either. I'm like Goldilocks.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes again and sat on the edge of the mattress. 'Yes, it's too soft,' he agreed and stood.

'What, not gonna lay down with me?' Greg asked.

'No,' Mycroft said and Greg cursed. No amount of whining could get Mycroft to lie down on a mattress with Greg, so the brunette resorted to playing dirty.

The fifth mattress they tested felt just about right to Greg; not too hard, not too soft. When Mycroft sat on the edge opposite him, Greg quickly flipped onto his side and grabbed onto Mycroft's jacket.

'Gregory!' the genius shouted as he was yanked backwards. He ended up sprawled across the mattress, Greg giggling beside him. 'You are such a child,' Mycroft huffed.

'Am not,' Greg poked his tongue out.

'Yes you are!'

'Nah-ah.'

'Gregory,' Mycroft scowled.

'What?' Greg said, batting his eyelashes innocently.

Mycroft smirked. 'You are _so_ going to get it.'

Greg recognised that look and his eyes widened. 'No, Mycroft, let's be reasonable.'

'I'm done being reasonable,' Mycroft said as he crawled across the mattress.

'No, we're in public.'

'So? You didn't care a minute ago.'

'Mycroft, please!' Greg begged.

'Begging won't help you now, Gregory Lestrade,' Mycroft said before he pounced. He straddled Greg's thighs and held him down while his fingers dug into Greg's sides.

Greg squealed, laughter bursting from his throat. He thrashed about, trying to dislodge his boyfriend, but Mycroft squeezed Greg's legs with his own, keeping him pinned in place.

'N-No... ahahaha... s-stop you b-b-ahaha-astard!' Greg shrieked.

'Never!' Mycroft grinned over the noise of Greg's giggles. He didn't stop until he heard someone clear their throat, and he turned to find one of the young men who worked at the store standing at the end of the mattress.

'Have you found the mattress you want?' the man smirked.

'Um... yes, I think we'll take this one,' Mycroft said and quickly clambered off his partner. Greg stayed laying down, panting and groaning for breath. 'Won't we, Gregory!' Mycroft said and smacked Greg's thigh.

'Oh... I dunno,' Greg panted, 'I don't... want it... if it makes... you tickle... me.'

'We'll take it,' Mycroft smiled.

'Yes, sir,' the man said. 'If you'll follow me to the register.'

Mycroft trailed after him, leaving Greg to get himself together. By the time Greg had re-appeared, his hair and clothes dishevelled, Mycroft had paid and was getting two of the workers to carry the bed and mattress out to BJ's truck.

'You're a bloody twat,' Greg grunted.

'No I'm not,' Mycroft smiled. 'Besides, you were asking for it.'

'I just wanted to test mattresses with you,' Greg sighed.

'We can test this one later, after we put the bed together.'

'Promises, promises,' Greg hummed.

'Just one more stop after this,' Mycroft said.

'Why?' Greg whined.

'New sheets and a few other odds and ends,' Mycroft smiled.

Greg groaned but followed after him. _Oh God, Dimmock's right_ , Greg thought, _I am_ so _whipped._

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


It took longer than Greg thought it would to put the bed together and he groaned, flopping back onto the floor when he was done. It was dark outside and Greg's stomach was growling. His muscles ached from a day spent doing hard labour, as well as driving BJ's truck back, and to top it all off he had school in the morning and hadn't done his homework. He wondered if he could convince Maggie to let him and Mycroft take the day off.

Phil had helped put most of it together before he'd headed back home, having his own family to take care of. Greg had assured everyone he could put the rest of it together, even with the instructions making no sense. Eventually he'd let Mycroft read them and had just followed what his boyfriend said.

Maggie changed the sheets and spread out the new blankets and pillows Mycroft had bought, while the couple grabbed a few boxes of Mycroft's clothes and favourite things from the garage.

'We can move the rest of it in during the week,' Greg decided. 'I'm too fucking tired.'

'I agree,' Mycroft sighed, dumping a box of books by the bed.

'How about you two shower and I'll get dinner started?' Maggie asked. Both boys nodded. 'Any preference?'

'Anything, I'm starvin',' Greg said.

'Me too,' Mycroft agreed.

'Alright, I'll call you when it's done,' Maggie said and left them to it.

'I can't believe how much we got done today,' Mycroft commented.

Greg groaned from the floor. 'And there's still so much to do!' he whined. Mycroft chuckled. 'And then we're headin' off to uni in a few months; we gotta pack and move everything all over again!'

'I think I'll get professional movers next time,' Mycroft said.

'Definitely,' his boyfriend nodded.

Mycroft yawned and stretched before standing. He nudged Greg with his foot and said, 'Shower.'

' _Noo_ ,' Greg whined.

'Shower, food, bed,' Mycroft said. 'I'm exhausted.'

'I'm just gonna sleep right here.'

'Gregory-'

'Why do you hate me?' Greg demanded.

Mycroft chuckled and pulled his shirt off. 'I don't hate you,' he said and started on his jeans. 'I'm offering you a chance to see me naked, covered in water.' Greg propped himself up on his elbows quickly and watched as Mycroft shed the rest of his clothes.

Mycroft grabbed one of the plastic bags Greg had dumped on the desk earlier and pulled out one of the new towels he'd purchased. He wrapped it around his waist, winked at Greg, and disappeared into the hallway.

'Damn it,' Greg cursed and tugged at his own clothes. No matter how tired he was, he could _not_ miss shower time with Mycroft Holmes. So he grabbed a new towel, hastily tied it around his waist, and took off after his boyfriend.

Mycroft was already in the shower, one hand testing the temperature of the water, the other fiddling with the knobs. Greg closed the door behind him and threw his towel over the sink. He stepped into the shower and Mycroft smiled as Greg's naked body made contact with his back.

'Mm, you and water, how can I say no?' Greg grinned.

Mycroft laughed. 'You're so easy.'

'For you, definitely,' Greg nodded. It was followed by a sigh as he rested his chin on Mycroft's shoulder. 'I wish I wasn't so tired. I'd totally get to my knees and suck you off.'

Mycroft chuckled and asked, 'Would you?'

'Mm-hmm.'

'A pity we're both exhausted, then.'

'Yeah,' Greg sighed again. He pecked Mycroft on the cheek before standing back. 'I'm ready for this day to be over.'

'Me too,' Mycroft agreed.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


After showering and changing into pyjamas, the couple headed into the kitchen to find pasta waiting. Maggie had heated up a bottle of sauce on the stove and had quickly boiled some spiral pasta. The two teens were too hungry to care about taste, they just sat at the table and shovelled food into their mouths.

Greg got halfway through his bowl before he started drooping against Mycroft. Eventually he had to admit defeat and pushed his food away. 'I need sleep,' he yawned.

'Go to bed, I'll clean this up,' Maggie told them.

'Thank you,' Mycroft said. 'Not just for dinner, but for everything. I really appreciate it.'

'It's not a problem, Mycroft,' Maggie smiled. 'You're family now and you'll always be welcome here.'

She kissed his cheek and Mycroft blushed. He and Greg made one last stop in the bathroom to brush their teeth before they were back in the bedroom. They hadn't had time to stop at a hardware store, but they were too tired to get up to anything, so settled for shutting the bedroom door.

Greg dove under the covers and moaned in delight; he _loved_ fresh sheets. Everything was so clean and perfect, and Greg knew he'd be asleep in seconds. Mycroft flicked the light off and joined him, and the two shifted about for a few seconds before getting comfortable.

'Thank you for today,' Mycroft whispered, pressing a kiss to Greg's head.

'No worries,' Greg yawned. 'You'd do the same for me.'

Mycroft smiled. 'I'm still thankful.'

'Mm, thank me with a morning blow job,' Greg murmured before grunting in pain. 'Oi, no pinching!'

'Is that a rule in your bedroom?'

' _Our_ bedroom,' Greg corrected.

A brilliant smile spread across Mycroft's face and Greg grinned in response. 'Our bedroom,' the genius echoed.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, settling back down.

'I like that,' Mycroft admitted.

Greg smiled. 'Me too.' There was a few seconds of silence before Greg whispered, 'You alright?'

Mycroft sighed. He didn't need Greg to elaborate; he knew exactly what the older boy was asking. 'I think so,' he finally said. 'I don't think it's all caught up to me yet. I can't believe that so much can change in just a few days.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

Memories of Siger Holmes screaming made Mycroft close his eyes. Without a word Greg dragged him closer until they were tangled together, Greg clutching Mycroft close.

'I got you,' Greg said softly.

Mycroft nodded and didn't open his eyes as he said, 'Goodnight, Gregory.'

'Night, Mycroft,' Greg replied.


	69. Reborn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Reborn by The Living End
> 
> **Author's Note:** Sorry for how long this took! I was writing, and reading, and generally living. I'm still working on chapter seventy-three, so I have to get some writing done to get ahead again. Anywho, Sherlock makes an appearance in this chapter, so hopefully that makes up for the wait!
> 
> Cheers,
> 
> {Dreamer}

When Greg woke up his entire body felt lethargic; like he hadn't gotten enough sleep... or he'd slept too much. He still didn't know how that worked, but it did. Mycroft was practically burrowed into him, long arms wrapped around Greg, legs tangled with the brunette's. His face was smooshed into the pillow and he had creases on his pale, freckled face that made Greg think he looked adorable.

He smiled softly and ruffled Mycroft's hair, but the other teen didn't wake. Carefully, Greg untangled himself and shuffled across to his wardrobe. He tugged his dressing gown on, tied the sash, and left the bedroom.

The TV was on in the sitting room but Maggie was in the kitchen making tea and more toast. She smiled as Greg entered yawning and headed for the coffee pot.

'Sleep alright?' she asked.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

'You didn't have to adjust to sharing the bed?' Maggie asked.

Greg shook his head as he started the machine. He turned to lean against the counter, his arms folded. 'No,' he said, 'sharing a bed with Mycroft is surprisingly nice.' He hadn't shared a lot of beds in his time. Despite his ability to easily talk men into hopping into bed with him, Greg had rarely actually spent an entire night with another guy. Mycroft was the first, really, and it just felt right to Greg. He loved waking up with Mycroft in his arms.

'I let you sleep in,' Maggie said, pulling Greg from his thoughts.

He frowned and glanced around, as though a clock might magically appear. 'What's the time?' he asked.

'Almost ten,' Maggie said.

Greg's eyes widened and Maggie chuckled.

'You had a lot to do yesterday, and you still have a lot to do,' Maggie explained. 'So I called your school and told them neither of you were coming in. I have to go in tomorrow to discuss Mycroft's change of address.'

Greg frowned slightly; he hadn't thought about that. Mycroft would have to change his address at school, the post office, and on any official documents. 'Huh.'

'Missing one day won't hurt,' Maggie continued as the kettle boiled. 'I explained everything and Mr Rourke didn't seem to mind.'

'Mm,' Greg hummed and turned to open the cupboard above his head. He felt like eating Coco Pops for breakfast and grabbed the box.

After Greg had poured himself a bowl, as well as coffee, and sat down to eat, Maggie asked, 'What's on the schedule for today?'

'Dunno,' Greg mumbled through a mouthful and shrugged one shoulder. 'We'll probably just finish setting up the room, maybe go to Tesco or the shopping centre to get some more food and stuff.'

'And the hardware store for a lock,' Maggie suggested, which made Greg blush and scowl at her.

'Yeah, that too,' he muttered.

Maggie grinned and lathered her toast in jam before joining him at the small table. They ate in silence, Maggie listening to the news that could just be heard through the open door. Greg had just gone back for his second bowl of Coco Pops when Mycroft stumbled in looking as strung-out as Greg felt.

'Morning, gorgeous,' Greg said. Mycroft grunted in reply and Greg grinned.

'Coffee?' the red-head muttered.

'Yeah, over there,' Greg nodded at the machine behind him. Rather than pour his own cup, Mycroft just sat down, grabbed Greg's, and took a large swig. 'Oi!' Mycroft scowled at him. 'That's mine.'

'If you love me you'll share your coffee,' Mycroft muttered before yawning widely and taking another sip.

Maggie glanced at Greg, who gulped thickly. 'Um... right,' the brunette nodded. ''Course we can share.'

Mycroft grunted again and continued drinking.

'Um... want breakfast?' Greg asked.

'No,' Mycroft muttered and flopped to rest his head against his arm on the table. 'Want sleep.'

Greg grinned. 'You're adorable when you're exhausted.' Mycroft grunted a third time. 'Well buck up, buddy, we've got a busy day ahead of us.'

'Doing what?'

'Shopping, setting up our room, shopping some more...'

'No...' Mycroft whined.

'Hey, Mum got us outta school,' Greg said. 'We can't just laze about.'

Mycroft's head shot up and he looked from Greg to Maggie, eyes wide. 'School?' he asked.

'It's Monday,' Greg said. 'So, you know... we usually go to school.'

Frowning, Mycroft asked, 'What time is it?'

Greg shrugged but Maggie checked her watch. 'Just after ten,' she said.

'What?' Mycroft choked out.

'Relax, Mum got us out of school,' Greg repeated.

'I spoke to Mr Rourke and told him what happened,' Maggie said. 'I'll be going in tomorrow to discuss your change of address and everything.'

'Oh God, I have to do all that,' Mycroft groaned, head once more flopping to the table. 'Can someone else do it or me?'

'Nope,' Greg answered, while at the same time Maggie said, 'Sorry, buddy, you're on your own.'

'You both hate me!' Mycroft whined.

'Isn't he adorable?' Greg grinned. Mycroft lifted his head to scowl at him and Maggie chuckled.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mycroft finally woke up after another coffee and disappeared to his and Greg's room to make calls. Greg went into the garage to sort through some of Mycroft's stuff. He made stacks of books, CDs, and posters he figured Mycroft would want in the bedroom, as well as sorting through Mycroft's clothing. After a quick lunch, Mycroft joined him and the two whiled away the hours making trips back and forth, Maggie occasionally offering assistance but mostly telling them to keep it down when they lugged stuff through the sitting room.

Greg's wardrobe wasn't very big but they made do. Greg took stuff off his shelves to make room for Mycroft's books but most were stacked at the foot of the bed. Mycroft's CDs went atop Greg's beside the CD player on the dresser, and Greg even took down a few more posters to make room for Mycroft's. Mycroft had better Green Day posters, so it wasn't too much of a hardship.

It was around three-thirty when Maggie called for them and the couple dusted themselves off before heading through the house. Mycroft was ahead of Greg and when he froze at the entrance to the hallway Greg bumped into him.

'Ow, Myc!' Greg whined and rubbed his nose. 'What's wrong?'

Before Mycroft could answer there was a shouted, 'Mycroft!' and a blue blur ran across the sitting room. Greg stepped aside just in time to see Sherlock Holmes leap into his older brother's arms. He wrapped his own around Mycroft's neck and hugged him tightly, Mycroft returning the gesture. Sherlock buried his face in Mycroft's neck and the elder Holmes shushed him.

'I'm fine, Lockie,' Mycroft said as he hugged his brother.

Greg peered around his partner to see Meghan Holmes and John Watson standing behind the sofa- Meghan looking tense and John smiling warmly at the scene. Maggie had her arms crossed as she leaned against the wall and she offered Greg a smile as Sherlock answered his sibling.

'Are you?' the younger Holmes demanded. ''Cause you just left and I didn't know what was happening and John said I should give you some space and-'

'Sherlock,' Mycroft cut in. Sherlock pulled back, a frown on his lips, bright blue eyes wide. 'I'm fine, honestly,' Mycroft said. 'Gregory took care of me.'

Sherlock looked past Mycroft at Greg, who said, 'I did, honest.'

'Are you sure you're okay, My?' Sherlock demanded. 'Father was yelling about you and Greg and he said... well, I'm sure you can imagine.'

'I don't have to imagine,' Mycroft sighed.

Sherlock pulled back properly and stood, arms folded across his chest. 'What happened?'

Mycroft glanced at his mother, who was still silent, and decided to tell Sherlock the truth. 'Father caught Gregory and me in bed together.' Meghan inhaled sharply but didn't say anything. 'He shouted, as you heard, and then kicked me out... or I walked out, I'm still a bit hazy on what exactly happened.'

'Are you coming back?' Sherlock asked.

'No,' Mycroft shook his head. 'What's the point, Sherlock? He doesn't want me under his roof and I'm not going to change who I am just so he's happy. And I graduate soon; I'll be moving to attend university anyway.'

'But... but we were supposed to have a few more months until you left,' Sherlock said, eyes widening even further. 'You weren't supposed to be leaving yet.'

'I'm not going anywhere, Sherlock, I'm right here,' Mycroft said. 'And even when I leave for university, it's not forever. You can visit me as much as you wish, and I'll visit too.'

Sherlock chewed on his bottom lip before asking, 'Really?' Mycroft nodded. ''kay,' Sherlock said and hugged his brother again.

Greg couldn't help but smile a little- and saw that John and Maggie were smiling too. Though Sherlock was a genius, he was still just a thirteen-year-old kid who loved his big brother. It was good to see that every now and then.

Finally Sherlock drew back and went to John, who reached out and linked their fingers together. Sherlock gave him a brief smile and squeezed his fingers. Mycroft looked up when Meghan closed the distance between them, stopping just before her eldest son. Greg had to fight the urge to throw himself between his boyfriend and the woman.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft murmured, head down. 'I didn't mean-'

He cut himself off when his mother's soft fingers gripped his chin, making him lift his head. Meghan's light blue eyes locked onto Mycroft's.

'You listen to me, young man,' Meghan said sternly. 'Don't you ever, _ever_ apologise for who you are. You're a beautiful, amazing, smart man, Mycroft. I couldn't be prouder of you, and I love you with all my heart. You liking boys doesn't change that.'

Mycroft stared, mouth falling open. 'R-Really?'

Meghan nodded and said, 'You're gay, Mycroft, but you're still my son; you're still the same Mycroft Edwin Holmes that I raised. You're still the same little boy who taught himself how to read, who taught himself French, and who took care of Sherlock when I couldn't. You're still _my_ son, Mycroft. I will never hate you for who you are, I could _never_ have you for being gay. I'll love you no matter what, Mycroft, because you're my son.'

She pulled him in for a hug and Mycroft melted, winding his arms around his mother's waist and squeezing her tightly. He buried his face in her neck, trying to keep back the tears that threatened to break free. This was all he'd ever wanted; his mother to love him, to be proud of him, and to know the real him.

And now she did; she knew he was gay, knew how he liked to dress, and knew that he was dating Greg. And she still loved him.

When they broke apart Mycroft scrubbed at his eyes and Meghan dabbed at her own.

'Thank you, Mother,' Mycroft said.

Meghan smiled. 'I just hope you can forgive me for all these years, Mycroft. I've been a terrible mother.'

'I haven't exactly been a perfect son,' Mycroft murmured.

'Mycroft, you've been an amazing son,' Meghan said. 'And I know you'll continue to be. I just hope that you want me in your life.

Mycroft smiled. 'I do,' he said softly.

Meghan smiled broadly and pulled back. She looked past Mycroft to where Greg was, still standing between the hallway and kitchen. 'You're dating Gregory?' she asked.

Mycroft smiled shyly and turned to look at his boyfriend. 'Yes,' he said.

'How long?'

'About a month,' Mycroft answered, turning back to his mum. 'But we, um... were kind of together for two months before that.' Meghan raised an eyebrow and Mycroft's blush darkened, but thankfully Meghan didn't question him.

Instead she moved past Mycroft to Greg, who's eyes darted between the two Holmeses.

'Gregory, I think we got off on the wrong foot,' Meghan said, holding out her hand. 'Thank you for taking care of my son.'

'Oh, um... no problem,' Greg said, shaking the woman's hand.

'Do you care about my son, Gregory?' Meghan asked.

'Of course I do,' Greg said. 'He's my boyfriend.'

Meghan looked him over carefully and Greg was suddenly hit with the realisation that Meghan was a bit like her sons; she had the exact same look the Holmes brothers used when they were deducing someone.

Seemingly satisfied, Meghan nodded and let go of Greg's hand before she turned to Maggie. 'Margaret, thank you so much. I don't know what I'd do without you.'

'Not a problem, Meghan,' Maggie smiled. 'Mycroft's always welcome here, Sherlock too.'

'I am?' Sherlock said in surprise.

'Of course you are, dear,' Maggie said. 'You can come over any time you want and annoy your brother and Greg.'

Sherlock looked like he wanted to pout at being called "dear", but the knowledge that he could see his brother any time he wanted- and annoy him _and_ Greg- won out, and he grinned broadly.

'Oh God,' Greg groaned. 'Little Holmes running amok.'

'I'm not little,' Sherlock scowled, folding his arms. 'I'm almost fourteen, thank you very much.'

'And as skinny as a stick,' Greg teased.

Sherlock's scowl darkened and before he could launch himself at Greg, Mycroft grabbed him.

'Sherlock, manners,' the elder Holmes tsked.

Sherlock pouted and folded his arms again, but made no move to attack Greg. Greg smirked at him.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mycroft and Meghan still had a lot of talking to do, so after Mycroft made them some tea he led his mother down the hallway to his and Greg's bedroom where they could speak in private. Greg put a DVD on and made Sherlock and John sit, the first with a glare on his face, the latter a polite smile. Maggie then distracted the two younger boys with a tin of chocolate digestives that Sherlock started wolfing down and Greg sat on the edge of one of the arm chairs, hoping his boyfriend and Meghan could work everything out.

Almost two hours passed before Meghan re-appeared, flashing Greg a warm smile before going into the kitchen. Greg waited a few minutes but when Mycroft didn't appear he stood and went to his bedroom.

Mycroft was sitting on the edge of their bed, eyes a bit wet, but he wasn't crying or throwing things. That was good, right?

'How are you?' Greg asked and edged further into the room.

'I'm fine,' Mycroft said and offered his partner a small smile. 'We talked, about a lot of things.' When Greg raised his eyebrows in question, Mycroft continued. 'About when I realised I was gay, a bit about what happened, how we got together.' He paused and looked away. 'I didn't tell her I was an addict.'

Greg sat beside Mycroft, not saying anything, just offering comfort.

'I want to,' Mycroft continued and looked down at his hands, fingers fidgeting. 'I don't want there to be any more secrets. But... I'm not ready to share that with her. And I don't think my mother's ready to hear it.'

'You don't have to talk about everything at once,' Greg said. 'Take your time.'

Mycroft smiled softly. 'I can't believe my mother knows. And she doesn't care. I never thought this day would happen.' He chuckled. 'We're actually going to have lunch together, just the two of us, with her knowing that I'm gay, that I smoke, and that I enjoy punk rock music.' He shook his head. 'It seems so... surreal.'

'Just 'cause your dad's a bigot doesn't mean your mum is,' Greg told him.

'He forbade her from seeing or talking to me, Sherlock too,' Mycroft informed his partner. 'She told him she could do what she wanted. Just because Siger no longer recognises me as his son, doesn't mean she feels the same way.'

'And your dad's not gonna do anything?' Greg asked.

Mycroft shook his head. 'Despite my father's many, many faults, he would never hit a woman. He can't afford a divorce, it would ruin the reputation he's built since moving here. My leaving home will already have damaged his standing with some business partners and his close circle of friends.'

'That includes Dimmock's dad, yeah?' Greg sad, and Mycroft nodded.

'Benjamin Masters' parents also have meetings with him every now and then. And Sally Donovan's uncle plays golf with him on weekends. My father will be in the rumour mill for weeks; everyone will wonder exactly what happened. Did he kick me out because of some hidden drug or alcohol problem? Did I run away? Etcetera.'

'Everyone'll learn the truth eventually,' Greg said.

'I don't care,' Mycroft shrugged and turned to face Greg. 'None of my own business partners live anywhere near here, and I doubt any of them will care that I'm gay.' He paused. 'Well, personally they might, but I make money, and that's all they care about.'

'Money makes the world go 'round,' Greg hummed.

'Very true.'

'So... you're okay?' Greg asked softly.

Mycroft smiled and grabbed Greg's hand. He linked their fingers and squeezed gently as he said, 'I'm fine; better than I was the other day. I'm working on mending my relationship with my mother, and my brother still loves me.' He kissed Greg's cheek. 'And of course, I have you.'

'Damn right you do,' Greg grinned. 'Now I demand a proper kiss.'

Mycroft chuckled and complied, capturing Greg's lips for a sweet, gentle kiss. He'd just cupped Greg's cheek, drawing him closer, when the door banged open and Sherlock appeared.

'Oh God, please stop!' the younger Holmes groaned.

'Sherlock!' John hissed as he stepped into the doorway. 'You can't go barging into people's rooms!'

'Why not?' Sherlock demanded.

John rolled his eyes. 'It's not polite,' he reminded his boyfriend.

'So,' Sherlock waved a dismissive hand. John sighed in exasperation and just shook his head.

'It's alright, John,' Greg said. 'What can we do for you, Sherlock?'

'We're leaving,' the young genius said. 'I'm here to say goodbye to Mycroft.'

Silence followed; Sherlock stared at Mycroft, Mycroft raised an eyebrow at his brother, Greg looked between them, and John shook his head. Finally Sherlock cleared his throat and scowled at Greg, who quickly got the message and stood.

'Right, well... come on, John,' Greg said and exited the room. John followed him down the hallway. 'Sherlock really doesn't like showing emotions, does he?' he questioned the younger teen.

'Other than anger and joy, no, he doesn't,' John confirmed. 'He knows that we know he loves Mycroft, but he doesn't like showing it. Like earlier, he wouldn't have hugged Mycroft in front of all of us if he wasn't really upset.'

'Yeah,' Greg murmured. 'Why is that?'

'You've met their father; you know how they grew up,' John said. 'Do you think they were allowed to show any real emotion at home?'

Greg paused. 'No, I suppose not,' he finally said as they entered the sitting room. Maggie and Meghan could be seen in the kitchen finishing up their tea. 'How is Sherlock, anyway?' Greg asked, turning to John. 'Is he doing okay since Mycroft left?'

'It could be worse,' John shrugged. 'Siger's being a dick, but he's always like that. He stopped ranting about Mycroft after you all picked up his stuff; now nobody's allowed to mention either of you in the house.

'He's basically pretending nothing happened; that Mycroft never existed,' John said. 'Sherlock said sometimes his dad glares at him, like he's waiting for Sherlock to announce that he's gay too.'

'And he's not?' Greg asked.

John shook his head. 'He wants to; he doesn't want to hide now that Mycroft's not. But me and Mrs Holmes both reminded him that he's still only thirteen. He can't just leave home like Mycroft did.'

'Does Meghan know you two are together?' Greg asked. When John nodded, Greg raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'Seriously? He told her?'

'This morning,' John confirmed. 'She kept kinda lookin' at us, like she could tell... Sherlock just blurted it out. Meghan said it's all fine, I'm a good kid, and me and Sherlock have always been close.'

'That's good,' Greg smiled. 'At least Sherlock's mum accepts it.'

'Yeah.'

'I doubt Siger will.'

John snorted. 'You think?'

Greg chuckled.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Sherlock sat on the edge of the bed and stared hard at the floor. Mycroft was silent, waiting for his brother to start the conversation. After at least five minutes of silence Sherlock turned and tugged at Mycroft's sleeves.

Mycroft sighed slightly but let his brother roll his sleeves up, revealing his smooth, pale forearms. Sherlock double-checked Mycroft's inner-elbows, as if he could have missed a track mark on his first inspection.

'I'm not using, Sherlock,' Mycroft said calmly.

'Good,' Sherlock murmured.

Silence fell again as Mycroft unrolled his sleeves. The two brothers sat side-by-side, staring at the walls, the furniture, anything but each other. Finally Mycroft broke the silence.

'You can't tell Father about you and John, Sherlock.'

Sherlock frowned. 'Why not?'

'It's a stupid idea,' Mycroft said firmly. 'You have to keep it to yourself, at least for now.'

'But I don't want to,' Sherlock sighed. He picked at the duvet beneath him, feeling Mycroft's blue eyes on him. 'I just want to be _me_ , Mycroft. I don't want to hide.'

'I understand that,' Mycroft nodded. 'But you have to see how stupid it would be to admit to Father that you're bisexual.' Sherlock sighed again. 'You're too young, Sherlock. You can't afford to be kicked out of the house.'

'I can take care of myself,' the younger Holmes huffed.

Mycroft smiled. 'I know you can,' he said, 'but you have to wait until you're fifteen. When you get your trust fund I'll invest it for you. When you turn sixteen you can move out if you wish, Mother won't stop you. You can get as far away from Siger as you want.'

'Is Australia too far?' Sherlock questioned.

'I don't think Pluto is too far,' Mycroft said.

Sherlock smiled. 'I miss Pluto,' he commented.

Mycroft shook his head and Sherlock looked up at him. 'What?' the red-head asked.

'I was worried about you,' Sherlock admitted softly. 'I wanted to call but Mother made me go to my room after you and Gregory left. I could hear Father shouting and he almost fired Mr Andrew and Mrs Hudson. But Mother lied for them and said they couldn't have known.'

Mycroft hadn't even thought about them; no doubt Siger would have let them go immediately if he knew they'd kept Mycroft's relationship- and less desirable habits- a secret.

'I called John first, to tell him what happened,' Sherlock continued. 'John understands these things better. He told me to give you time; that you might need to process what happened as well as figure out where you were going to live. I knew Ms Lestrade would let you stay here for a while, but I didn't know she'd let you move in.'

'Neither did I,' Mycroft said. 'Gregory offered first, then Margaret did.'

'They're nice people,' Sherlock admitted. 'I'm glad you have Gregory, and his mum.'

Mycroft smiled. He doubted Sherlock would _ever_ say that to Greg's face.

'In a way I wish this had never happened,' Sherlock said softly, eyes once again on the blanket he was playing with, his long fingers tracing the swirling black patterns in the fabric. 'I want you at home again, with your secret room and books and guitars and... I just want you to be there, where I can see you whenever I want.'

He sighed and tilted his head, chin pressed to his chest.

'But in another way,' Sherlock said slowly, 'this is better. You don't have to hide any more. You can be yourself and date Gregory without worrying about Father catching you. I... I _know_ it's better for you, that it makes your life easier, but.. I don't want you so far away.'

Mycroft leaned forward and tilted Sherlock's head up by his chin. Sherlock's blue eyes were downcast, lips set in a firm line. 'I'll always be here, Sherlock,' he told his little brother. 'I'm just a phone call or text away, you know that, right?'

Sherlock nodded curtly.

'No matter where I go, or how far away I am, I will _always_ be your big brother, and I'll always be here for you. I love you, Sherlock, and no amount of distance or bad blood between our parents is going to change that.'

Sherlock sniffed but nodded again, and when Mycroft let his chin go he wrapped his arms around his big brother, hugging him tightly.

'I miss you,' Sherlock admitted, his voice muffled against Mycroft's shirt.

'I miss you too,' Mycroft replied, rubbing Sherlock's back. 'But I'll always be your brother, Lockie. Remember that I love you.'

'Shut up; stop being so _gay_.'

Mycroft just smiled. Sherlock hated getting emotional; he hated expressing his feelings. He was being mean to distance himself from what was happening. Mycroft didn't mind; he knew Sherlock loved him, and that was all that mattered.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


It had been an exhausting day emotionally and Mycroft skipped dinner, instead having a shower and falling right into bed. Greg made some pasta for him and Maggie and the two ate in the sitting room watching season five of House.

After he was done Greg washed the dishes and had his own shower. When he re-entered his and Mycroft's bedroom, tip-toeing so as not to wake the other teenager, Mycroft suddenly rolled over and sighed.

'Hey,' Greg said as he dropped his towel and tugged on a pair of striped pyjama bottoms. 'What are you still doin' up?'

'I couldn't sleep,' Mycroft answered. He flicked his bedside lamp on so Greg could see properly and watched as his partner hunted about for a shirt. 'I've just been thinking about everything.'

'Yeah?'

Mycroft nodded and picked at the duvet. 'I still can't quite believe what happened.'

'I'm sure that'll pass,' Greg said. He briefly disappeared to hang his towel up in the bathroom and when he got back he shut the door and climbed into bed with Mycroft. Mycroft turned the lamp off before rolling over, allowing Greg to wrap around him, head resting on the genius' shoulder. 'We still haven't got a lock,' Greg commented suddenly.

Mycroft chuckled and ran his fingers through the older boy's hair. 'Tomorrow.'

'We still gotta go to Tesco,' Greg reminded him. 'Pick up some stuff for the bathroom, some food you like, all that.'

'Hmm,' Mycroft hummed. 'Wednesday, then.'

'Okay,' Greg nodded.

There was a few minutes of silence before Mycroft said, 'I don't know how thank you for everything you've done.'

'You don't need to thank me,' Greg said seriously. 'You'd have done the same for me.'

'I highly doubt you could ever annoy your mother enough for her to kick you out,' Mycroft said.

Greg smiled. 'Dunno... I could stop cooking.' Mycroft chuckled again. 'Or I could tell her we don't use condoms.'

'Gregory!' Mycroft groaned.

'What?' Greg said. 'She'd flip out if she knew.'

'Really?'

'Yeah, well she's a nurse,' Greg shrugged. 'All about health. She chucks a fit when she finds my fags or catches me smoking.'

'Mm, we better not tell her, then,' Mycroft said.

'I agree one hundred percent.'

Mycroft leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of Greg's head. 'I'll find some way to thank you.'

'You don't-'

'Need to, I know,' the younger teen cut in. 'But I will.'

'There's no talking you out of it, is there?'

'No.'

Greg sighed. 'Fine... my mum likes chocolate and sunflowers.'

'That's good to know.'

'Mm...' Greg hummed before saying, 'my mum meant it, you know.'

'Meant what?' Mycroft asked.

'You'll always be welcome here,' Greg told him. 'Even before all this happened she was happy to have you over. And she'll always say yes if Sherlock wants to come over or stay, John too.' Mycroft smiled. 'She's a good person, my mum,' Greg commented. 'Better than most people.'

'Very true,' Mycroft nodded.

'I dunno how she puts up with me.'

'She loves you.'

Greg chuckled. 'I suppose so, yeah. But a lot of the time she wants to smother me with a pillow.'

'Well we all feel like doing that to you on occasion,' Mycroft drawled.

Greg flipped over and bit Mycroft's shoulder, making the red-head giggle and try to tickle him. They rolled around the bed for a few minutes before quieting down, Greg now on Mycroft's side of the bed with both arms wrapped around his partner.

Usually having that much contact would have led to sex, but Greg knew Mycroft wasn't in the mood after the day he'd had. Greg wasn’t either, truth be told. He just wanted to fall asleep with Mycroft and have wonderful, sexy dreams that starred his favourite red-head.

He was about to say goodnight when a soft snore reached his ears, making Greg smile and lift his head. Mycroft's eyes were closed, lips parted, breathing even and deep. Greg's smile grew and he pressed a kiss to Mycroft's temple before settling back down and closing his eyes.


	70. My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light 'Em Up)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark (Light 'Em Up) by Fall Out Boy
> 
> **Author's Note:** Sorry about the long wait! I kind of lost track of time, I didn't realise how long it had been since I posted chapter 69 (heheh) and then when I remembered I ran out of internet credit. But I got some, so I'm posting, and I'm currently working on chapters 74-78 (my muse does so enjoy making me work on multiple things).
> 
> Anywho, enjoy!
> 
> {Dreamer}

Greg could tell Mycroft was nervous. He'd barely touched his breakfast and was gripping the wheel tightly as he drove to school. It had gotten too cold to ride his bike, so Mycroft drove his Jag. Maggie would be following in her little car after getting ready for her shift at the hospital.

Greg knew that, by now, the whole school would have heard some version of what had happened. He wondered how many knew the truth. He was roused from his thoughts Mycroft pulled up in the car-park, breathing out deeply as he turned the engine off.

'You alright?' Greg asked.

The genius offered him a tight smile. 'I can do this,' he said, more to himself than his boyfriend.

''Course you can,' Greg nodded. 'Just... text me if you can't, yeah?'

Mycroft nodded and the two climbed out of the car. Mycroft unlocked the boot and they grabbed their bags.

'Greg!'

Greg turned to see Dimmock running across the car-park and his heart sank. Shit, were the rumours already so bad that Dimmock wanted to tell him immediately?

But instead of relaying any rumours he'd heard about Mycroft or Greg, the other boy dug his iPod touch from his pocket and waved it at Greg.

'What?' Greg asked.

'I finally got the second _Conventional Weapons_!' Dimmock announced.

Greg grinned. 'Yeah? What are the songs like?'

'They're called _AMBULANCE_ and _Gun._ ,' Dimmock said. 'They're awesome, but _Boy Division_ is still my favourite.' Greg snorted. 'Shut up,' Dimmock scowled, 'it's a good song.'

'I know it is,' Greg grinned. 'Never said it wasn't.'

Dimmock rolled his eyes. 'I'm openly bi, Greg, what are you trying to say?'

'Openly?' Greg snickered. 'Your dad doesn't know.'

'He does, he just chooses to ignore it,' Dimmock said.

'And pretend that I somehow tricked you into sleeping with me,' Greg added.

'What's _Conventional Weapons_?' Mycroft practically snapped. He _really_ didn't want to stand there and listen to his boyfriend and friend reminisce about their past dalliance.

Greg threw Mycroft a smile and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. Mycroft tried to calm himself by taking steady breaths.

'They're the new singles by My Chemical Romance,' Greg finally said.

'Oh,' Mycroft said. 'I didn't know they were bringing out a new album.'

'They're not yet,' Dimmock explained. 'It's a compilation album of unreleased singles. They come out in twos; _Conventional Weapons One_ to _Five_. _Three_ comes out December 18th. You can only get them online or order the vinyls.'

Greg groaned as he stuffed one of the headphones into his ear. 'I need a record player,' he grumbled. 'I could get all of Green Day's albums on vinyl.'

'Shut up,' Dimmock said as he scrolled down his play list. He finally reached _Conventional Weapons Number Two_ and chose _AMBULANCE_.

'Can I listen?' Mycroft asked. My Chemical Romance wasn't his favourite band but he liked most of their songs and had all their albums. His CDs had filled Greg's own collection- the other teen had only had _The Black Parade_.

'Sure,' Dimmock nodded and handed over the free headphone. Mycroft checked for the L or R and fit the headphone into his left ear. He stood beside Greg, listening carefully to the new song. He always liked this part; listening to music, trying to figure out the lyrics, deciding if you liked it or not.

Greg glanced at Mycroft as they listened, Dimmock fiddling with his phone. Mycroft had been nervous only minutes ago, but thanks to Dimmock and My Chemical Romance, he seemed to have calmed down. Greg smiled; music always helped.

When Maggie pulled up in the car-park Greg, Mycroft and Dimmock were re-listening to the songs on Greg's smart-phone. It was loud and a few students hanging around the grass area were shouting at them to shut it. Greg just flipped them off while Mycroft and Dimmock chuckled.

'Maggie,' Dimmock smiled when he saw Greg's mum. 'What are you doing here?'

'Greg and Mycroft didn't tell you?' she asked as she put her phone into her purse.

'I have to talk to the headmaster about Mycroft moving in,' Maggie told Dimmock. 'It's just a formality, really, so they can understand exactly what's happening. It's not like they can change anything.'

'What time's the appointment?' Greg asked.

'Eight-thirty,' Maggie said. She checked her watch and said, 'We better go, boys.'

Greg pouted but locked his phone and shoved it into his pocket. He, Mycroft and Dimmock followed Maggie through the school. Halfway across the quad Dimmock spotted Molly, Lily and Alex, who'd caught the bus rather than cram themselves in Molly's little car. He waved goodbye and jogged off to greet his girlfriend.

'And he says _I'm_ whipped,' Greg muttered.

'You are,' Mycroft commented.

Greg rounded on him. 'S'cuse me?'

Mycroft chuckled and gave Greg a chaste kiss. 'I'm whipped too,' he added.

'Damn right you are,' Greg grumbled.

Maggie shook her head at her boys as they followed her into the main offices. They were so adorable and they didn't even realise it.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Like Maggie had said, the meeting with the headmaster was more a formality to discuss what had happened. Mycroft had to change a few of his personal details; Siger and Meghan Holmes were changed to Margaret Lestrade under "parent/guardian", and Maggie was also made Mycroft's emergency contact (Mycroft knew she'd contact his mother if anything happened). His address was changed next as well as his home phone number.

After everything was done Mr Rourke wanted to know what had happened. Mycroft glossed over some of the details (like the fact that he and Greg had been naked when Siger had discovered them) as he said, 'My father discovered I'm gay and dating Gregory; he didn't react well. He didn't want me in his home and I didn't want to be there. Ms Lestrade was kind enough to let me stay with her until I go to university.'

Mr Rourke nodded and offered his condolences as well as a suggestion to see the school counsellor. Mycroft just smiled and nodded, and Greg knew that the auburn-haired teen had absolutely _no_ intentions of every talking to the counsellor. Ever.

They were in Mr Rourke's office for almost an hour before Maggie had to go; her shift started at nine-thirty. So everyone shook hands, and Greg and Mycroft were given permission to skip the remaining minutes of their first period and wait around for their second class. So they walked Maggie back to her car, watched her leave, and then headed to the smokers' corner to have a cigarette.

'You doing okay?' Greg asked as he lit up.

Mycroft shrugged, sucking back on his cigarette. 'I'd prefer if everybody didn't know about my personal life but there isn't anything I can do.'

'Could yell at them,' Greg suggested and Mycroft smiled at him. 'Scream, throw some punches, that'll make them leave you alone.'

'I'd rather not get suspended, Gregory,' Mycroft chuckled.

'Well, you can't have everything you want,' Greg shrugged. 'It's either listen to them or punch them in the face.'

Mycroft sighed and took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing smoke above his head. 'I suppose I just have to deal with it,' he said eventually.

'At least you won't be alone,' Greg said. Mycroft looked at him and the older teen gave him a small smile. 'I'm here so... you're not alone.'

Mycroft smiled broadly and leaned across to peck Greg on the lips. 'Thank you, love.'

Greg grinned at the term of endearment. 'No worries,' he said. They finished their smokes and Mycroft sighed when he checked the time. 'I've got Biology,' Greg said.

'Free period,' Mycroft told him.

Greg nodded and threaded his fingers through Mycroft's. 'Walk me to class?' he asked.

Mycroft chuckled but squeezed Greg's digits before tugging him along. They walked in silence, ignoring the few people who'd been let out of class early. By the time they got to Greg's Biology classroom Mycroft had a death grip on the brunette's hand.

'Easy,' Greg said.

Mycroft glanced down at their joined hands and blushed as he loosened his hold. 'I'm sorry.'

'Don't be,' Greg shook his head. 'Just relax, okay? Go hide out in the library and tell anyone who comes up to you to fuck off. And text me if you wanna talk.'

'Okay,' Mycroft nodded and kissed Greg's cheek. He glanced around and said, 'I'm going before the rest of the school gets out.'

Greg kissed him again and said, 'I'll see you in English.'

Mycroft turned quickly and disappeared down the walkway, Greg sighing as he watched him go. A tap on the shoulder made him jolt and he turned to see Barney Glockner and his mate Gavin Something-Or-Other staring at him with big grins.

'Er... yeah?' Greg asked. While he'd never been bullied or picked on, Greg wasn't exactly the most popular guy in the school. The football stars like BJ Masters and his lot had everyone's attention. Greg was only well-known for the various fights he'd gotten into when he'd first come out.

So as it was, most people knew who he was, but that didn't mean he spoke to them on a regular basis. He stuck with Dimmock and Joe, and now Mycroft, BJ, and Sally Donovan.

'Is it true?' Barney asked.

'Is what true?' Greg said, even though he had a pretty good idea what they wanted to know.

'Don't bullshit us, Lestrade,' Gavin No-Last-Name grinned widely. 'You and Holmes are shagging and his old man caught you.'

Greg sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'Yeah, so what?'

'How'd it happen?' Barney demanded. 'My dad said Holmes Senior interrogated his kid and got it out of him. Mycroft Holmes apparently threw a heap of shit and walked out but his dad wanted to work it out.'

Greg scowled. Trust Siger Holmes to spin the whole tale in _his_ favour. 'That's fucking bullshit,' he snarled. 'Siger Holmes is a good for nothing, homophobic cunt, alright? All of you can fuck off and stay out of my boyfriend's business!'

'Lestrade!'

Greg jumped and the three of them turned to see Mrs Cameron, their Biology teacher, standing behind them scowling.

'Er... sorry?' he tried.

She sighed and glanced at the three, as well as the rest of the class who were starting appear from first period. 'I'm going to ignore what you said because of the situation,' Mrs Cameron finally said. 'But I don't want to hear any more out of you, got it?' Greg nodded vigorously. 'As for the rest of you,' she said to the class at large, but her eyes were on Barney and Gavin, 'you are _not_ to ask either Greg Lestrade or Mycroft Holmes what happened over the weekend, understand? It's none of your business!'

'Yes, miss,' came from the gathered students and Mrs Cameron nodded before heading into the classroom, everyone following after her. A few people threw Greg looks as he took his usual seat up the back.

Joe came in a few minutes later and sat beside Greg. 'What's up?' he asked, seeing the look on his mate's face.

'I hate everybody,' Greg groaned, thumping his head against the desk.

Joe glanced around and realised most people were looking Greg's way. 'Yeah...' he said slowly, 'I've had a few people ask me what happened.'

Greg's head shot up. 'What?'

'Well... everyone knows we're mates,' Joe said, 'so they've been asking me what happened. I didn't say anything, just told 'em to get stuffed.'

Greg smiled weakly. 'Thanks, Joe.'

'No worries.'

Greg's mobile vibrated in his pocket and he glanced up at Mrs Cameron before fishing it from his blazer. He swiped the screen with his thumb and opened the new message from Dimmock;

  
  


_So this morning a few people came up to me and asked what happened. Unfortunately Lily, Alex, and Molly were with me. Have you ever seen Lily in full shouting mode with her best mate? Not pretty but hilarious!_

  
  


Greg smiled again. He hated that his friends were getting badgered too about what had happened, but at least they were sticking up for Mycroft.

'What are you looking at?' Joe growled at Barney and Gavin, who had sat at the table closest to Greg and Joe.

'What?' Barney said.

'Mrs Cameron!' Joe practically shouted and waved his hand in the air. 'Glockner and Carter are asking Greg questions about his private life!'

'Bullshit!' Barney and Gavin spluttered at the same time, while Mrs Cameron rounded on them.

Greg and Joe both snickered as she ordered the two boys out. They glared at Joe as they marched from the class.

'Thanks, man,' Greg said and clapped Joe on the shoulder.

'No worries,' Joe grinned. 'So, uh... did you do your homework?'

Greg rolled his eyes but tossed Joe his book, the older boy's grin widening. 'Arsehole.'

'Bastard,' Joe retorted.

Greg laughed.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg found Mycroft in the library during break. He stood in the large room, looking for his boyfriend, before turning and spotting him in one of the librarian's offices. Greg walked past the front desk and through the doorway, Mycroft looking up from his work when Greg shuffled across the carpet.

'Hello,' Mycroft said tiredly.

'Hey,' Greg replied. He shrugged his bag off and sat across from his boyfriend. 'Hiding out, huh?'

Mycroft offered him a small smile. 'The librarians were getting annoyed; everyone kept talking to me, asking me questions. After I told them off the fourth time they let me sit in here.'

'That's nice of them,' Greg said. He unzipped his bag and pulled out a packet of crisps. 'Here, eat these; you didn't have breakfast.'

Mycroft chuckled as the packet was tossed before him.

'And at lunch you're eating something big,' Greg said sternly. 'Like lasagne or noodles or something.'

'You take such good care of me,' Mycroft said, opening the packet and picking a crisp out.

'I gotta,' Greg grinned, 'you never remember to eat properly.'

Mycroft just smiled and started eating as Greg pulled out his own crisps.

'So...' the brunette hummed around a mouthful. Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'How are you?' Greg eventually asked.

'I'm fine,' Mycroft shrugged. 'Besides the questions.'

'Yeah,' Greg said, 'I got a few of them myself. So did Dimmock and Joe.'

'Really?'

Greg nodded. 'Apparently everyone figured, since they're our mates, they'll know what happened.'

Mycroft sighed and said, 'I wish everyone would mind their own business.'

'You know people; they love gossip,' Greg said. 'They'll get over it soon.'

Mycroft sighed again. 'Forty questions from twenty different people in the space of ten minutes, Gregory.'

'People have nothing better to do.'

'I know,' Mycroft muttered. 'I've had three, "Did you really try to burn down your house?", a dozen, "Is Lestrade your way of rebelling?", and even a, "Is it true you secretly work for MI6?"'

Greg snorted a laugh and Mycroft glared at him. 'I'm sorry,' he said.

'It's not funny,' the red-head huffed.

'No, not all,' Greg smiled. He leaned over and kissed Mycroft on the cheek. 'I'm sorry, really.' Mycroft scowled at him. 'Well...' Greg hummed, 'look, I don't have a class after lunch, and I usually hang around to talk to you or hang with Dimmock and that at lunch. But how about we get out of here early? We can go somewhere, you can calm down while we got some food, then we'll go to Tesco and get what you need.'

Mycroft chewed on his bottom lip. 'I have Triple Science and History...' he murmured.

'We don't have to,' Greg shrugged. 'It's just a suggestion.'

'Can I think about it?'

''Course you can,' Greg smiled. He leaned across the table and kissed Mycroft again. 'Just let me know.'

Mycroft nodded and took another crisp from the packet Greg had given him, the older boy smiling as he ate it.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'You're like an over-protective mother.'

'Who you're sleeping with,' Greg reminded him, 'so who's more messed up, huh?'

'You're disgusting,' Mycroft said, wrinkling his nose.

'You said it, not me.'

Mycroft kicked him under the table. 'Shut up,' he said, but a smile was tugging at his lips.

Greg grinned in response and leaned back. 'Yes, dear.'

Mycroft laughed. He went back to his homework while Greg munched on his crisps, humming _Boy Division_ under his breath. After a few minutes- in which Greg spent at least five trying to remember the chorus of the song- a faint murmuring and rustling caught Greg's attention.

He glanced up to see Mycroft scowling at his homework, shoulders stiff. Greg's eyes wandered over to the large glass windows that made up half the office. He saw at least six different students, most female, milling about the front desk pretending they were doing something. They were mostly staring into the room, trying to catch a proper glimpse of Mycroft and Greg. When they saw Greg looking, half looked away and the other half grinned and tried to get his attention.

'Jesus Christ,' Greg groaned.

'I'm so fucking sick of it,' Mycroft scowled. 'I went from being a nobody to the top of the rumour mill!'

'They'll get over it,' Greg tried to comfort him, even though he himself was pretty pissed off. Seriously, did they have _nothing_ better to do?

A few more girls had joined the group and Mycroft's grip on his pen tightened, eyes narrowed, head bent. Greg wet his lips and glanced from his boyfriend to the group before standing so quickly his chair toppled back.

Mycroft blinked. 'What are you doing?' he asked, looking up at his partner.

'Come on, you need to relax,' Greg said and started gathering Mycroft's work up.

Mycroft frowned. 'How am I supposed to do that? I've already snuck away for a dozen cigarettes.'

Greg shoved Mycroft's stuff into his bag, the genius making no move to stop him. 'Just come with me,' the brunette said and held his hand out.

Mycroft allowed Greg to pull him to his feet and they walked out of the office hand-in-hand. Greg scowled at the girls who started moving towards them and before the group could get too close the couple exited the library.

Greg hurried down the corridor, pulling Mycroft into the stairwell after him and down the stairs. Mycroft didn't question where they were going but kept shooting Greg confused looks. Greg pulled Mycroft across the school and into the boys' bathroom before Mycroft asked, 'Greg, what are you doing?'

There was a first former using one of the urinals and he threw Greg and Mycroft a bored look before finishing, washing his hands, and leaving. Greg thanked the stars that most of the younger students didn't care who was shacking up with whom. After checking all the stalls, and finding them empty, Greg grabbed Mycroft by his blazer and tugged him into the one furthest away.

'Gregory,' Mycroft scowled when his boyfriend shut the door behind them. 'What are you- _mmf_!'

Greg crushed their lips together, effectively cutting Mycroft off. Greg managed to shrug his bag off and tried to tug Mycroft's side bag off too, but the red-head stopped him.

'Gregory,' he panted when he ripped their lips apart, 'what are you doing?'

'You need to relax,' Greg said. He pushed his hands under Mycroft's blazer, running his palms up and down his white cotton shirt. 'It's either this or try and fuck in the back of your Jag.'

Mycroft pursed his lips. It was already fifteen minutes into break, which lasted half-an-hour. They'd waste time getting to the car-park, and that wasn't to mention the hordes of students who hung out around the car-park The last thing they needed was to get caught having sex on school property.

But weren't they doing the same thing here?

Mycroft found his thoughts scrambled when Greg managed to un-tuck his shirt. A warm, calloused palm ghosted over his side before moving further up. Finger tips danced across the sparse hair trailing from his chest to his stomach, and Mycroft moaned when a thumb brushed his left nipple.

'Shh,' Greg whispered. He pressed his lips to Mycroft's neck and kissed softly. 'Let me take care of you.'

'We... sh-shouldn't,' Mycroft gulped as Greg's hands moved to his trousers. He didn't really try to stop his boyfriend, though. He just let himself be pushed against the grimy wall, watching with wide eyes as Greg undid his belt quickly and efficiently.

Soon Mycroft's bag was on the floor with Greg's, his grey trousers pooled around his ankles. Greg slid Mycroft's half-hard erection through the slit in his boxer-briefs. Without a word Greg dropped to his knees, using his bag to keep his trousers protected from the slightly wet floor, and immediately took Mycroft's dick into his mouth.

Mycroft hissed, his head dropping back against the wall, one hand clawing at it and the other threading through Greg's hair. Greg bobbed back and forth, his right hand wrapped around the base of Mycroft's shaft. It filled out in his mouth until it was rock hard and throbbing, pre-come soon dribbling over his tongue.

'Jesus, Greg,' Mycroft moaned.

Greg pulled off long enough to hiss, 'Be quiet,' before going back to work.

Mycroft gritted his teeth to keep his moans in and his fingers dug hard into Greg's scalp. He began rocking back and forth, forcing Greg to take more and more of his cock in. Soon Greg was deep-throating him, breathing heavily out his nose as he buried his face in Mycroft's warm skin. His pubic hair was beginning to grow back and it scratched at Greg's face.

_Note to self; make Mycroft either shave or grow it all out_ , Greg thought as he sucked. He hollowed his cheeks when he drew back, dragging his lips and tongue along Mycroft's overheated flesh. It twitched in his mouth, leaking more and more pre-come over his tongue. Greg swallowed when he could, the taste heightening the pleasure of sucking Mycroft off.

Greg's own dick was twitching in his trousers and he'd need to either wank or have Mycroft jack him off before leaving the bathroom. School trousers didn't exactly prove great coverage for hiding erections.

Greg soon let himself go; enjoying the warm, thick cock in his mouth; the way Mycroft's nails scraped at his scalp; how Mycroft was rocking back and forth faster and faster as he lost himself to the pleasure. Mycroft now had his free hand stuffed into his mouth, his teeth digging hard into his skin to muffle his moans. The small stall echoed what little noise they made back at them; the rustling of clothes, the squeak of Mycroft's shoes on the tiled floor, Greg's bag moving across the floor as he bobbed back and forth, the slick wet sound of Mycroft's erection filling Greg's mouth and throat.

Greg had never been with anyone quite as _large_ as Mycroft Holmes. While he wasn't enormous, he was still longer and thicker than anyone Greg had slept with before. Luckily Greg had had a lot of practice blowing guys off, and shifting from using condoms to nothing at all hadn't been that hard. Greg just had to relax his throat and swallow when Mycroft finally came.

Still, saliva dribbled down Greg's hand on occasion, making it easier for him to fist Mycroft's prick and slide his palm up and down, jacking the red-head off when he pulled back.

Greg pushed his free hand up the leg of Mycroft's briefs and quickly found his balls. He tugged, squeezed, and rolled the warm sack between his fingers, and just as the bell rang through the bathroom Mycroft came.

He jerked against Greg, filling the brunette's mouth with sticky, salt-flavoured come. He cried out against his hand, close to drawing blood as he chomped down on his knuckle. Greg drew his hand from Mycroft's briefs and used it to steady himself against the genius' thigh as he swallowed Mycroft's climax down.

When Mycroft was finally spent, Greg drew back with a filthy wet slide, saliva making his swollen lips gleam. He groped for the toilet paper and used it to wipe his hand and Mycroft's softening shaft clean.

Mycroft's breathing was still ragged and he stared down at his boyfriend with dark, sated eyes. Greg grinned and got to his feet. He tucked Mycroft away, did up his belt and fly, and helped him tuck his shirt in. He even straightened out Mycroft's tie and smirked cockily.

'So...' he hummed, voice husky and worn. 'You calm now?'

Mycroft chuckled and wrapped a hand around the back of Greg's neck. He tugged the older teen forward and pressed their lips together. Greg let himself melt against his partner, hanging on tight to Mycroft's blazer.

Before he knew it Mycroft had him turned and pushed against the wall, his belt and trousers torn open, his boxers pulled down only far enough to get his dick out. Greg cursed as Mycroft wrapped a firm hand around him, wasting no time in pumping him steadily

Greg's moans were muffled by Mycroft's lips, the red-head bending over him to get their lips together His tongue twisted through Greg's mouth as though chasing his own taste, and Greg sucked on the muscle greedily. His hips jolted off the wall as he fucked Mycroft's hand. Greg was embarrassed with how quickly he came, Mycroft pressing toilet paper to the head of his cock to catch his climax. He shook and clung to his boyfriend tightly, head bent as he breathed heavily against Mycroft's cheek.

Mycroft cleaned him slowly, Greg flinching as his sensitive head was wiped clean. Greg looked thoroughly fucked by the time Mycroft had fixed his clothes. The younger teen of course looked close to perfect, only his pink cheeks and swollen lips hinting at what he and Greg had done.

'Bastard,' he breathed.

'Shh,' Mycroft smirked and kissed him again. When he drew back he said, 'Class started at least five minutes ago; we'd better leave.'

'Mm, or we could stay here,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft shook his head and grabbed his bag. Greg followed and the two crept out of the stall-

'Jesus,' Greg groaned.

Mycroft peered around the corner and blushed when he saw Dimmock at one of the sinks, washing his hands. The older boy grinned widely and looked at their reflections in the mirror.

'Well hello there,' he smirked. 'Just what were you two doing sharing a stall, huh?'

'Do you have some fucking sensor or something that goes off when I'm getting laid?' Greg demanded.

'Before, during, after,' Dimmock nodded and turned the tap off. 'I call it “Cock-block Greg 2012”. Gonna get a better one next year, the 2013 model. Pretty cool, huh?'

'It'll be pretty cool when I smack your face in,' Greg muttered.

Dimmock just snickered as Greg and Mycroft tried to clean themselves up. They left the bathrooms together, Greg and Mycroft holding hands- both ignoring the “awws” coming from Dimmock, as well as the batted eyelashes.

When they were passing the theatre Mycroft tugged Greg to a stop. 'I have a debate,' he reminded his boyfriend.

'Oh, yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Want me to come?'

'That's okay,' Mycroft shook his head. 'Everyone will be staring enough at is. Not that I wouldn't love to have you there, but-'

Greg cut the auburn-haired teen off with a soft kiss. Dimmock made whipping noises from behind them, but eventually wandered of to the hall when it was clear the couple weren't paying attention to him.

Greg broke the kiss gently and said, 'I get it, Mycroft. It's not a problem.'

'Are you sure?'

Greg nodded. 'You just go kick arse, okay?' Mycroft chuckled. 'See you at lunch?' Greg asked.

Mycroft nodded and kissed him again. 'Thank you,' he murmured against Greg's lips.

'Hey, I'm happy to help,' Greg said and grinned cheekily.

'Of course you are,' Mycroft chuckled. He kissed Greg one last time before patting the brunette's arse. 'Go to class.'

'Yes, sir,' Greg saluted.

Mycroft smiled and watched him leave before heading into the hall.


	71. Boy Division

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Boy Division by My Chemical Romance

Greg was thankful when he peeked around the hall doorway to see neither of the PE teachers there. They were always late, though they were pushing it; Greg himself was about twelve minutes late after his quickie in the bathroom with Mycroft.

'Greg!'

Greg stopped before stepping into the hall and turned around. Andy Freen was jogging across the tar towards him. When he reached Greg the brunette asked, 'What's up?'

'Hey,' Andy said when he stopped beside Greg. 'So is it true?'

Greg sighed. 'Yes, Mycroft's living with me.'

'Yeah?' Andy said. 'Why?'

'Not really any of your business, is it?' Greg grumbled.

Andy held his hands up, blonde hair flopping into his face. 'Easy, mate, I was just wondering. The rumours are freakin' crazy.'

'Yeah, I've heard,' Greg nodded. 'Somethin' about Mycroft being a government project but he killed all his creators?'

Andy snorted. 'That's the best one. Oh, and he's an MI6 agent; you know, like Alex Rider.'

Greg nodded again; he was familiar with the books, Mycroft had them all.

'Anyway, just tell Mycroft not all of us think that crap,' Andy continued. 'I'd tell him myself but, ah... he kinda yelled at Matt Sanders when he asked.'

Greg frowned and reached for his phone. Mycroft hadn't told him that. The younger teen rarely shouted; he preferred acting aloof, cool, and using his sharp tongue to piss people off. If he was yelling all the rumours and attention were really starting to get to him.

'Thanks, Andy,' Greg said and turned to walk into the hall.

'No worries,' Andy said. He walked in after Greg but broke off, heading towards his own friends. As usual, when there was a practical the two PE classes had been merged together. Dimmock, Joe, Sally and Jennifer Gilbertson (one of Sally's mates) were sitting in one corner waiting for the teachers to turn up.

Dylan was in the other corner talking to Matt Sanders and BJ Masters, and the latter two didn't look happy about it. Greg smirked as he texted Mycroft; even an idiot like Matt hated Dylan after his fight with John Ralling and Andy.

  
  


**You alright?**

  
  


Greg didn't have to wait long for Mycroft to reply. By the time he'd reached his mates his mobile was buzzing and he glanced down at the screen;

  
  


_I hate every single person in this school and I wouldn't be fazed if it went up in flames - M_

  
  


Greg raised an eyebrow. Okay... so Mycroft was _really_ pissed off.

  
  


**Now, now, no need to resort to theatrics. Just ignore them.**

  
  


'What's up?' Dimmock asked, seeing Greg's attention focused on his mobile.

'Mycroft,' Greg said without looking up. 'Everyone's bugging him and he's getting pissed off.'

'Is it true he lives with you now?' Jennifer demanded.

Sally shook her head. 'Jesus, Jen, give it a rest. It's none of your business, alright?'

Greg smiled thankfully at Sally but Jennifer wasn't done. 'What? I just wanna know, what's the harm?' she asked.

'It's none of your fucking business!' Greg snapped. His phone buzzed again and he ignored the affronted look on Jennifer's face as he read Mycroft's text.

  
  


_Ignore them? Lovely suggestion, Gregory, I hadn't thought of that! - M_

  
  


**Hey, don't get pissy with me; I'm on your side, remember?!**

  
  


'Are you texting him now?' Jennifer asked.

'If you were a guy I'd slap you,' was Greg's response.

'Hey, you're gay; aren't you allowed to slap anyone?' Sally asked.

Greg snorted. 'Yeah, 'course, Sally.'

'It's a law,' Dimmock nodded seriously while Joe snickered, 'been around for years.'

Sally just laughed and pulled Jennifer into conversation, leaving Greg free to text Mycroft.

  
  


_I'm sorry, I know it's not your fault, and I shouldn't take it out on you. But even the teachers are staring at me. I've been asked several times already if I'm alright. I was before they started talking to me - M_

  
  


Greg chewed on his bottom lip before tapping at his touch-screen.

  
  


**Wanna skive?**

  
  


_I don't think that's wise - M_

  
  


**You need a break before you kill everyone with your mind. Come on, as soon as lunch starts, we'll take off.**

  
  


Greg waited a few seconds before Mycroft replied;

  
  


_I'll meet you by the car after you finish PE. My debate should be done by then - M_

  
  


Greg smiled and pocketed his phone. He noticed Dimmock looking at him and said, 'I'm leaving at lunch.'

'Why?' Joe asked.

'Mycroft needs a break,' Greg said. 'Everyone's pestering him and I don't want him losing it.'

Joe nodded. 'Makes sense,' he said. 'Mycroft has always scared me a bit.'

'A _bit_?' Greg grinned.

'Well... yeah,' Joe nodded. 'His brother's scarier.'

'He's, like, eleven,' Sally cut in.

'Thirteen,' Greg corrected her.

'Whatever,' the girl rolled her eyes. 'He's thirteen and as skinny as a stick, Joe.'

'Yeah, grow a set,' Dimmock snickered.

'Hey, I bet he scares you too!' Joe growled, pointing at them all.

'Eh... not really,' Greg shrugged. 'I've seen the older one naked, remember?'

'Oh, _thanks_ for that image,' Joe groaned.

'Yes, thank you Lestrade,' Sally grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

Greg smiled. 'That's all you're getting, Donovan.'

Sally pouted and went back to talking to Jennifer, who'd been watching the conversation with wide eyes. Dimmock sidled up to Greg and asked softly, 'Is Mycroft alright?'

'He's... hanging in there,' Greg said honestly. 'He's not used to so much attention.'

'Yeah, must be rough,' Dimmock nodded.

'I wish everyone would mind their own business,' Greg grumbled as Miss Latta and Mr Jenkins walked into the hall.

'It'll grow old soon enough,' Dimmock reassured him.

'Alright, ducklings, gather 'round!' Mr Jenkins suddenly called. 'Time to make you suffer!'

'He's a bag of laughs,' Greg commented as he followed his mates towards the teachers.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mycroft sighed when he finally stepped away from the podium. His speech hadn't suffered from his low mood; his voice had been strong, he was sure of each and every word he spoke, and he made the appropriate amount of eye contact and pauses.

That didn't stop the various students in the hall from staring at him and whispering amongst themselves. Mycroft had never been well known at school. Most people knew _of him_ due to his intelligence and cold, proper personality. They also knew of him after the entire student body discovered he and Gregory were dating.

But none of that had ever affected his life so much. Now he was the subject of stares and whispers wherever he went, even from most of the teachers. Only Mr Jambrook, who was watching over the students in the Baker Street debate team, was treating him normally.

Mycroft sat on his allotted chair on the stage between Julian Carlton and May Marsden. Sherlock was in the audience with John, both scowling and telling other students to shut the hell up. Mr Jambrook was pretending not to hear Sherlock's vile words, instead smirking at the younger Holmes every time Sherlock swore.

Mycroft let his head fall forward, rubbing his eyes as Lily started her speech. He could feel the eyes of almost every single person in the hall on him. Didn't they have anything better to do than hound him about his personal life?

'Alright, that's it,' Lily suddenly announced, drawing Mycroft's attention. 'I'm giving a goddamn speech here,' the girl continued, 'and you lot are staring at Mycroft. Here's a thought; leave him the hell alone! How would you like it I followed you everywhere, huh?'

'She would, too!' Alex piped in from the front row.

'Exactly,' Lily agreed. 'So unless you want me, Alex, and Sherlock Holmes following you all around asking about your personal life, shut the hell up!'

'Remember that Sherlock can deduce you all!' John announced from beside his boyfriend.

'I can,' Sherlock nodded, an evil smirk on his face. 'So shut it!'

The St Mary's and Artemis teachers were trying to keep the peace, but Mr Jambrook had to hide his laughter behind a hand. Mycroft smiled slightly as Lily turned to wink at him, and Alex stood from her chair.

'Hurry the hell up, Lily, I'm hungry!'

'Aye, aye, Skippy!' Lily grinned and dove right back into her speech.

Mycroft's mood was slightly elevated after that and when the debate was over- Baker Street won, of course- everyone kept their distance from Mycroft. Lily hopped off the stage to stand beside her friend and smiled at Mycroft while Sherlock and John joined them.

'Thank you,' Mycroft said honestly.

'Not a problem,' Lily grinned.

'If you need to freak out the masses,' Alex said, 'Lily's your man.'

'Oi!' Lily huffed.

'Guy?' Alex tried.

'No,' Lily shook her head.

'Er... bitch?' Alex smirked.

Lily blinked rapidly before grinning again. 'Damn right,' she nodded.

'Anyway,' Mycroft said, 'thank you, Lily.'

Lily just smiled and gave him a quick hug. 'Are you okay?' John asked Mycroft.

'I'm... fine,' Mycroft said slowly. Sherlock snorted and the elder Holmes sighed. 'I'll manage,' he corrected himself.

'I think I should scare them all,' Sherlock mused. 'Maybe an explosion-'

'No, Sherlock,' John cut in, 'no explosions in the science rooms!'

'But _Jawn_ ,' Sherlock whined. 'It'll make them shut up!'

'And get you expelled,' John said. 'No.'

'But _Jaawwn_!'

'No.'

' _Jawn_.'

'No.'

'JOHN!'

John stared at him. '... no.'

Sherlock cursed and the older teens chuckled. Mycroft checked his watch and said, 'I have to go.'

'Go where?' Sherlock demanded.

'Out, little brother,' Mycroft smiled and hugged him tightly, making Sherlock bitch and squirm. 'Thank you, Lockie,' Mycroft whispered in his ear.

Sherlock stopped. 'You're welcome,' he murmured.

Mycroft drew back, ruffling his brother's hair as he went. Sherlock scowled at him but it was half-hearted at best.

'Okay, lunch,' Lily said and patted her stomach. 'I need me some noodles.'

''Course you do,' Alex said and went to grab her bag.

'Noodles, Skippy, noodles!' Lily hollered while running after the Australian.

'I'll see you later, Sherlock, John,' Mycroft said.

'Bye,' John smiled.

Sherlock just nodded at him and watched as his brother left.

'He'll be alright, Sherlock,' John said. 'He has us, all his friends, _and_ Greg.'

'I know,' Sherlock sighed. 'I'm just...'

'Worried?' John suggested when his partner trailed off.

'Right,' Sherlock nodded.

John reached out and grabbed his hand, linking their digits. 'How about we go scare some people who're gossiping about Mycroft and Greg?'

Sherlock grinned and bounced forward, pressing a sloppy kiss to John's lips. John beamed brightly as the genius said, 'John, you're _brilliant_!'

He tugged the smaller boy after him, John chuckling as he went.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg had had double PE, so after changing back into his regular uniform he waved goodbye to his mates and jogged out of the hall. A few classes had already finished and Greg drew attention from students wanting information about Mycroft. But he ignored them all, even flipped a few off as he passed the Darwin and Boster buildings to get to the car-park.

Mycroft was waiting, leaning against his car and fidgeting with his tie. Greg bounced to a stop beside his partner and gave him a quick kiss. 'Alright?'

'No,' Mycroft sighed.

'Want me to drive?'

Mycroft just nodded and handed the keys over. They threw their bags into the boot and climbed into car.

'Where we going?' Greg asked.

'Anywhere,' Mycroft sighed. He put his seat-belt on and leaned back, closing his eyes. 'Just away from here.'

Greg nodded and started the car.

They ended up in Holland Park where Mycroft had dumped Greg last week. Greg parked and turned the ignition off. He and Mycroft grabbed their smokes, Greg taking the container of pasta he'd packed that morning from his bag. The couple walked across to one of the picnic tables and sat down, Mycroft immediately lighting up a cigarette and sighing as he took a long drag.

Greg pushed the container of food towards Mycroft as well as a plastic fork. Mycroft raised an eyebrow as he looked down at it. 'Yes?' he finally questioned.

'You've had half a piece of toast and a packet of crisps today,' Greg said. 'So eat at least half of this.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes but rather than fight just popped the lid. He stuck the fork into the cold pasta and said, 'After I finish my cigarette.' Greg nodded. 'And you have to eat with me,' the auburn-haired teen added.

''Course,' Greg smiled. He finally lit his own smoke. He was sitting opposite Mycroft and enjoyed watching the way the genius leaned against the table, head tilted and eyes at half mast as he looked across the park. It was already chilly, even at midday, and Greg tugged his blazer closer. He should have worn a scarf, he mused silently.

'Are you cold?' Mycroft asked suddenly.

Greg jolted and looked at him. 'Erm... little bit,' he admitted.

'I have a scarf in the car,' Mycroft said and nodded towards where the Jag was parked. 'And a blanket.'

Greg blinked in surprise and asked, 'Really?'

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'It's been getting colder and I thought better to be safe than sorry.'

Greg chuckled and stood. Leaning over the table, he tried to kiss Mycroft but fell short. He pouted when the younger boy snickered at him, but thankfully Mycroft met him halfway and pressed their lips together.

'Aww, you _do_ like me,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft shook his head and pulled his keys out, tossing them over the table to Greg. Greg caught them easily and gave Greg a cheeky smile before heading back to the car-park.

Greg came back carrying the blanket Mycroft kept in his boot. He unfolded the blanket before sitting beside his boyfriend and tugging it over both their shoulders. They snuggled beneath it together and finished their cigarettes.

When Greg had flicked his cigarette butt away he tugged the container of pasta closer and nudged it towards Mycroft. 'Yum, yum,' he said and grabbed the fork, spearing a good chunk on the prongs. He waved it before Mycroft, who chuckled and obediently opened his mouth.

Greg forced the entire forkful in and watched, grinning, as Mycroft chewed and swallowed. 'Well?'

'Well what?' Mycroft asked.

'Yummy?'

Mycroft nodded. 'Did you make it yourself?'

'Yeah, just some pre-made sauce, though. I was too tired to make my own.'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and asked, 'You can make your own?'

'Sure,' Greg nodded. 'Tomatoes, spices, whatever. Throw it all into a pot and _boom_ , yummy sauce.'

'I'll have to try it sometime,' Mycroft said as Greg fed him again.

'It's delicious, heaps better than this,' Greg said. 'At least I think so.'

'You're a terrific cook,' Mycroft told him.

'I know,' Greg said and puffed his chest out.

Mycroft snorted. 'You don't have to feed me,' he said when Greg once again stabbed the fork into the pasta and raised it to the red-head's face. 'I'm perfectly capable of feeding myself.'

'I don't think so,' Greg shook his head. 'Half a piece of toast, Mycroft. And you wouldn't have eaten those crisps if I hadn't given 'em to you.'

Mycroft conceded defeat and let Greg feed him, the brunette occasionally popping a few bites into his own mouth. Soon enough Greg kept missing Mycroft's mouth, instead smearing sauce across his lips, cheeks and chin. Greg would fake-apologise before leaping forward to lick Mycroft clean, which turned into some _very_ heated kissing.

Mycroft had nothing to complain about, really.


	72. The World Is Ugly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** The World Is Ugly by My Chemical Romance

When they were done eating they had another cigarette each before heading back to the car. But rather then get in, Mycroft turned the key in the ignition, plugged his iPod in, and made sure the music could be heard through the open door. He then climbed onto the hood of the Jag and gestured for Greg to follow, where they curled up under the blanket to try and keep warm.

Mycroft didn't seem to care if his belt scraped the hood of the Jag, but Greg made sure his blazer covered his own every time he shifted on the car. When he finally got comfortable he let out a content sigh. It was cold, but snuggling under the blanket with Mycroft was nice.

The music was cranked up loud, and even though it was Fall Out Boy, the guitar and drums were loud enough that Greg enjoyed it. Mycroft was a heavy, warm presence beside him, and the sky was like a canvas, a uniform colour of light grey as far as Greg could see. A light breeze was making the leaves on the trees around them rustle, but it didn't reach Greg.

The brunette smiled and let his eyes fall to half-mast. He liked this; just hanging out with Mycroft, spending time together. There was no rush to do anything, or even to grab at each other now that they were alone. There was just the comfortable silence, the hard music, and Mycroft.

It was one of the major differences between having a boyfriend and having one-night stands; no rush. Greg was happy, whether he was having sex with Mycroft or just hanging out with him. There was no need to rush, to pull at clothes and jerk, rut, and lick their way to completion. Greg could just lay there, beside Mycroft, and enjoy his company.

The next song started and it was _Helena_ My Chemical Romance, so Greg hummed along under his breath as his eyes slid all the way shut. He felt Mycroft chuckle beside him but didn't say anything, far too content to keep the peace and just... laze about.

Greg remembered doing this kind of stuff with Dimmock when they were younger. They'd hang out in Greg's bedroom and listen to music, occasionally try to look up porn on the internet when they were alone, or eat as much crap as they could before Maggie caught them and made salad and vegetables for dinner.

Greg smiled when he remembered staring at naked women and thinking, ' _I don't get it_ ', while Dimmock was more than happy to ogle and drool a little. They had been eleven the first time they'd looked up porn, and Greg had been far too young to realise that he'd found the guys in the pictures and videos attractive rather than the women.

'What are you smiling about?' Mycroft's voice suddenly broke through the music.

'Porn,' Greg answered honestly without opening his eyes.

'Porn?'

'Mm,' Greg nodded. 'When me and Dimmo were about eleven, my mum left us at my place for an entire afternoon. Dimmo was sleeping over and Mum had to run to the hospital, I can't remember why, before she went to Tesco to get stuff for dinner. We jumped on the computer and looked up porn.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'And how did that go?'

'Um... good for Dimmock,' Greg said and Mycroft snorted. 'I didn't get it in all honesty.'

'You were looking at naked women, yes?'

Greg nodded and finally turned to look at Mycroft. The auburn-haired teen was lying on his back, head tilted to look at Greg. 'Dimmock was drooling and practically busting right there. But I just... nothing, I thought it was a little gross, really.' His eyebrows furrowed as he thought. 'I remember staring at the guys a bit too much and talking about dicks afterwards when Dimmo wanted to tell Joe and Dyl what we'd seen. They kinda looked at me funny.'

'Well, they didn't know what to do with a gay boy, did they?' Mycroft said.

Greg huffed in amusement. 'Little gay boy Greg, huh?'

'Mm-hmm.'

'That was me,' Greg smiled. 'Had no fucking idea until _bam_ , saw some show on TV with gay guys in it, and it was like this light went off in my head; _holy shit, I might be gay_!' He offered Mycroft a small smile. 'I thought about it a bit, kissed some boys, and realised I was gay. Dimmo noticed I was being weird and finally got it out of me.'

Mycroft smiled. 'It's good to know you didn't have too much trouble coming out.'

'What about you?' Greg asked. He suddenly realised he didn't really know how Mycroft had come to the realisation that he liked boys.

'I knew when I was... six or seven,' Mycroft shrugged.

'Seriously?' Greg gaped.

Mycroft nodded. 'I knew I was different, that I preferred the company of my own gender. I didn't make the connection between myself and homosexuality until I was about thirteen or so. I did some research and eventually just realised I preferred men.'

'Wow.'

'I wasn't confused at all,' Mycroft said. 'I didn't feel annoyed or uncomfortable or even ashamed. I just felt angry that I couldn't tell my father, who was always openly homophobic. Sherlock figured it out quite young, it's hard not to when you're as intelligent as him.'

'He ever have a problem?' Greg questioned.

'No,' Mycroft shook his head. He smiled softly. 'About a year ago I was driving him home. I parked in the garage and he turned to me, a very serious look on his face, and said, “I like boys _and_ girls”. And I just nodded and we went on with our day.'

Greg snuffed a laugh and Mycroft smiled at him. 'Of _course_ that's how Sherlock Holmes came out,' Greg grinned. 'He does everything differently, doesn't he?'

'That he does,' Mycroft nodded.

Greg chuckled and they lapsed into silence again, both staring up at the sky and thinking unimportant thoughts. Suddenly Greg had a thought and said, 'Hey.'

'Mm?' Mycroft hummed without opening his eyes.

'Where'd you go to school before Baker Street? I remember you tellin' me a while ago but I can't remember.'

'Eton College,' Mycroft answered.

Greg whistled. 'Fancy,' he said. Mycroft turned to look at him, one eyebrow raised. 'What?' Greg said. 'It is! I bet you even when to a fancy school before that.'

Mycroft was silent a few seconds before saying, 'Maybe.'

'Come on, tell us,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft sighed but said, 'Wetherby Preparatory School.' Greg giggled and Mycroft reached over to slap him. 'It's not that funny!'

'It _totally_ is,' Greg chuckled.

'I only attended Wetherby until I was thirteen,' Mycroft grumbled. 'After that I went to Eton. Sherlock would have too if we hadn't moved here.'

'Would he?'

Mycroft nodded. 'He'd already taken the admission test and been offered a place. But then father decided to move out here to try and expand his businesses.'

'You Holmeses don't do anything by halves, do you?'

'No,' Mycroft smiled. 'Every male member of my family has either attended Eton or Harrow before going on to Oxford or Cambridge. The same thing is- or _was_ \- expected of me and Sherlock.'

'But you _want_ to go to Oxford,' Greg reminded him.

'I do,' Mycroft said, 'it's one of the best school's in the country.'

'I suppose that's one thing you and your dad agree on.'

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'Where did you go before Baker Street?'

'I went to Goldean Primary School,' Greg said, 'then I was gonna go to Patcham High with Dimmock. But Dimmo's dad wanted him to get into a better school and so did my mum so we applied at Brighton College, Baker Street, and St Mary's. We had to do all these tests and St Mary's said they'd never accept me- something about swearing after the test.'

Mycroft snorted; that sounded like Gregory.

'Anyway, I got into Baker Street and Dimmo got into Baker Street and Brighton College but decided to go here with me. Cost Mum an arm and a leg and still does, but we make do.'

'Well, I'm glad you decided to go to Baker Street,' Mycroft commented.

Greg turned to him. 'Did you have any friends at Eton?'

'One,' Mycroft nodded. 'Christopher Andrew Cross; that's how his parents always introduced him.'

'Seriously?' Greg snorted. 'His name was Chris Cross?'

Mycroft smiled. 'He preferred being called Drew.'

'Yeah, so would I.'

'Stop laughing,' Mycroft scolded and slapped Greg's thigh.

'Oi, it's funny,' the brunette grinned.

'He was my friend,' Mycroft reminded him.

'Yeah, called Chris Cross- _ow_!' Mycroft slapped him again. They fought under the blanket until Mycroft managed to grab both Greg's wrists and hold him still. 'Alright,' Greg breathed heavily, 'you win.'

'Do I?' Mycroft asked, his blue eyes skimming over Greg's face slowly, resting on his lips.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, 'no making fun of Chris Cross, I get it.'

' _Drew_ Cross,' Mycroft reminded him.

'Right; Drew Cross,' Greg nodded again.

Mycroft smiled before leaning up to press his lips gently to Greg's. Greg grinned and returned the kiss. When Mycroft let him go he ducked both hands under the blanket to smooth them over Mycroft's warm chest, his arms, up his throat to his cheeks.

Mycroft hummed in delight and wrapped his arms loosely around Greg's waist, pulling him closer. When they broke apart Greg said, 'We should fight more often.'

'Should we?'

Greg nodded. 'Leads to snogging.'

Mycroft chuckled, said, 'Shut up,' and dragged Greg down for another kiss.

Greg grinned and returned it eagerly.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


They made out for a bit more before Mycroft decided it was too cold on the hood of the Jag. So they moved into back seat, made out a bit more- Greg threw in some heavy petting, just 'cause he could- and eventually they drifted into silence and just laid together under the blanket listening to music.

And yes, they snuggled, or cuddled, whatever it was called. Really, Greg didn't care. He loved wrapping his arms around Mycroft, or having Mycroft's wiry, freckled arms around himself. There was no one around to see it, and even if there was Greg wouldn't stop or feel embarrassed. Dimmock made fun of every aspect of his relationship with Mycroft; adding snuggling wasn't a big deal.

Eventually it hit three-thirty and Mycroft once again mentioned Tesco and the few things he needed- body wash, razors, lube; the essentials. So Greg got out, stretched, and folded up the blanket as Mycroft started the car.

They drove to Tesco in silence, the only sound coming from the stereo; Fall Out Boy, again. Greg was actually starting to like them... mostly the singer, he liked the dude's voice, especially the more punk-fuelled songs. He had no fucking clue what they were singing about, but the music was alright.

Not that he would _ever_ say that out-loud. He'd continue to fight Mycroft on the matter, right up to his death bed, and maybe after that too. They had to fight about something, right? And Mycroft hated The Offspring, so Greg had to hate one of his boyfriend's bands in retaliation.

Mycroft parked and the two jumped out, Greg shivering slightly as a cold wind whipped across his body, making his hair fall into his eyes. He really needed a haircut; his hair got way too curly when he let it grow out.

When they got inside Mycroft grabbed two baskets and handed one to Greg. 'I don't need that much,' the auburn-haired teen said, 'just a few things.' He dug into his pocket and pulled out a list.

'Lead the way, gorgeous,' Greg said.

Mycroft rolled his eyes but a smile was playing on his lips as he set off.

Greg mostly whined and bitched as they went down aisle after aisle. It wasn't that he was having a particularly terrible time, he just really hated shopping. He didn't care if it was for clothing, sex supplies, or food; he fucking hated it. Hated the people, hated the bright lights, hated _everything_. Mycroft bending over to grab something from a lower shelf, school trousers stretched tight across his firm arse, didn't make up for a woman trying to run Greg over with her trolley and scowling at him like he'd suddenly appeared in her path. It was like everyone was hell-bent on killing Greg and then blaming him when they ran over his foot.

They were in the party foods section, where Greg was learning that Mycroft needed fun-sized packets of salt and vinegar chips to survive when he was studying- half the genius' basket was filled with them and he was adding more- when yet another woman (and seriously, Greg was glad he didn't sleep with the fairer sex) bumped into his basket with her own.

Greg jolted at the sudden impact and turned in time to see her glare at him, muttering about “idiotic teens” under her breath as she pushed past him, grabbing some pretzels before stalking off.

'Apology accepted!' Greg shouted after her, his patience wearing thin.

Mycroft sighed and turned to look at him.

'What?' Greg huffed. 'She bashed into _me_. I swear to God, they're all out to get me.'

Mycroft snorted but leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Greg's lips. 'How about you go get my body wash and razors, hmm?'

Greg scowled.

'And lube, we're almost out,' Mycroft added.

Greg tilted his head. 'Hmm...'

'Get two bottles,' Mycroft said, 'we seem to go through it quickly.' Greg smirked at that. 'Oh, and condoms.'

'Condoms?' Greg asked, head tilted, eyebrows raised in question.

'You're the one constantly jumping me on the sofa or in the car,' Mycroft reminded him. 'And I'm not explaining stains to your mother, _or_ paying to get my leather seats cleaned. So grab a box, okay?'

Greg sighed, like it was a huge hassle, but said, 'Fine, fine. But I demand sex as compensation when we get home.'

It was Mycroft's turn to sigh loudly, but there was a gleam in his bright blue eyes. 'Fine,' he said and slapped Greg on the arse.

'Oi!'

'Hurry along,' Mycroft said and made shooing motions.

Greg grinned and saluted his partner. 'Yes, Mr Holmes, _sir_.'

Mycroft's chuckle followed Greg as he turned and headed down the aisle.

Humming under his breath, Greg browsed the aisles looking for the bath section. No matter how many times he shopped at Tesco, he could never remember where anything was.

He finally spotted the women's sanitary shelf and knew he was in the right spot. Turning left, he wandered down the aisle, eyes roaming over each shelf. He didn't know the brand of Mycroft's body wash, but he'd seen him use it a few times and would be able to spot it just by the bottle.

Greg finally found it and dropped a bottle into his half-empty basket. He then swung around to the fun shelf and looked over the condoms and lube before grabbing two bottles of the brand Mycroft usually bought. He dithered on what brand of condoms to get before eventually settling for the ones he used to buy before hooking up with Mycroft.

He then stood staring into space as he imagined a time when Mycroft _finally_ fucked him. He also let his mind wander to different types of lube they could try. He'd always wanted to go inside a sex shop, and no doubt they'd have flavoured lube and toys...

Greg was snapped out of his rather filthy musings when something to his right crashed to the floor. He blinked and shook his head, trying to ignore the way his cock twitched in his trousers, and turned.

A girl, probably a bit older than Greg, was standing about halfway down the aisle, a packed trolley set before her, and a toddler on her hip. She was trying to reach for a packet of hair ties above her head, but she wasn't very tall and the baby was squirming in her arms. She'd knocked down a few bottles of face creams and they were scattered across the floor.

Greg quickly hurried forward before anything could go wrong and asked, 'Can I help you?'

The girl offered him a small, tired smile. 'Thank you so much,' she said and Greg cocked an eyebrow at her accent- Australian?

'No worries,' Greg said and reached up. 'These ones?' he asked, gesturing to a packet. She nodded and Greg pulled them down. After dropping them into her trolley, he quickly grabbed the bottles of face cream she'd knocked over from the floor and stacked them back on the shelves. When he stood up he got a proper look at the baby on her hip-

\- and gasped.

It was Harry, Doctor Phil's grandson. Greg would recognise that flaming red hair anywhere. His eyes drifted to the girl- rust-red hair, olive green eyes, a smattering of freckles over pale cheeks- and realised it was Maddy.

Maddy noticed his staring and took a step back, her body going tense, eyes darting around. 'Um, my boyfriend's just in the next aisle,' she rushed to say, 'he'll be back in a minute.'

Realising she was scared of him, or worried he was about to hit on her, Greg quickly held up his hands. 'No, no, sorry,' he said, 'I have a boyfriend myself.'

Maddy blinked in surprise. 'Oh.'

'Yeah,' Greg chuckled. 'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare. I just recognised you from the photo Doctor Phil keeps in his wallet.'

Maddy frowned in confused and asked, 'Doctor Phil?'

'Phil- Phil Rider,' Greg explained. 'He's dating my mum, Maggie Lestrade.'

Maddy's eyes widened in recognition and she shifted her son from one hip to the other. 'Oh, you must be Gregory. Phil's talked about you.'

Greg blinked in surprise. 'He has?'

Maddy nodded. 'When he told us he was dating Maggie, he said she had a son named Gregory and that you'd met.' Here she offered him a smirk. 'Seems you gave him the "If you hurt her I'll hurt you" speech.'

Greg grinned and nodded. 'Yeah, well, she's my mum, you know?' His eyes darted down to Harry. 'And this must be Harry?'

'Harrison, yes,' Maddy nodded and smiled. Harry blinked up at Greg with bright green eyes, and Greg grinned. God, the kid was gonna get Harry Potter jokes from his friends' parents when he got older; he looked a lot like Phil, and Phil looked a lot like Harry Potter. 

Randomly Greg wondered if Mycroft knew that he was a tiny bit obsessed with Harry Potter and that his first celebrity crush had been Daniel Radcliffe...

'He's a little cutie,' Greg said and waggled his finger at the toddler as he tried to, yet again, shake the lewd thoughts from his head. Damn it, his mind was being extra filthy today. Harry made a swipe for Greg's finger and giggled when Greg tapped his nose. 'Hey there, Harry, I'm Greg.'

'Garga,' Harry babbled and Maddy smiled as Harry again tried to grab Greg's hand. Greg let him take his finger and Harry squealed in delight.

'So, how are you enjoying England?' Greg asked when the little boy had let his hand go.

'It's cold,' Maddy said without hesitation. 'Honestly, I've never seen so many grey, rainy days in my life.'

Greg chuckled. 'Right, you're from New Zealand.' Maddy nodded. 'Does it get really hot there?'

'Sometimes,' Maddy said, 'but we have our cool days. It's just never cold _all the time_.'

'Well, welcome to England,' Greg grinned.

Maddy smiled.

Before either of them could say anything else, a boy suddenly appeared at Maddy's shoulder. Greg took a step back when he recognised Shawn Rider- Phil's son. Harry clearly got his red hair and pale features from his mum, because Shawn had dark brown hair, tanned skin, and bright green eyes. He was a bit shorter than Greg but stockier, and Greg didn't fancy getting into a fist fight with someone who thought he was hitting on their girl.

'Hey, I'm Greg,' he said when Shawn scowled at him. 'I'm Maggie Lestrade's son.'

Shawn blinked in surprise and glanced at Maddy. 'Really?' he asked, his accent a mix between Australian and what Greg now realised was New Zealand. He sounded a bit like his dad, really.

'Yeah,' Greg said, holding his hand out. 'Greg Lestrade; nice to meet you.'

'Right...' Shawn said and shook Greg's hand. 'Sorry, I-'

'Nah, it's cool,' Greg smiled. 'I'd get upset too if I saw some weird dude talking to my boyfriend.'

Shawn looked shocked before realisation dawned across his face. 'Right, you're gay.'

'Yeah,' Greg said hesitantly, wondering if Shawn had a problem with gay people.

'No, sorry, I just forget,' Shawn laughed. 'I didn't mean anything by it.'

'Right,' Greg smiled again. 'I just stopped to help Maddy out.'

'Sorry,' Shawn repeated, this time to his partner. 'But I got the chocolate.'

'You and chocolate,' Maddy rolled her eyes but let Shawn press a kiss to her cheek. 'Alright, you're forgiven.'

Shawn grinned at her and turned back to Greg. 'So you're Maggie's son?' Greg nodded. 'Dad talks non-stop about her, you know.'

'Really?' Greg asked.

Shawn nodded and Maddy said, 'He's smitten.'

'Well... that's good,' Greg hummed. It was better than Phil saying he was bored of Maggie or something. Greg didn't want his mum to get hurt.

'Gregory!'

Greg turned to see Mycroft wandering down the aisle towards him.

'Did you get my body wash?' Mycroft asked before pausing when he saw Maddy and Shawn.

The silence was only broken when Harry squealed, reaching for his dad. Shawn dropped the chocolates he was holding into the trolley and reached for him, while Mycroft looked at Greg and raised an eyebrow.

When Shawn had Harry settled into his arms, Greg made introductions. 'Mycroft, this is Shawn, his son Harry, and his girlfriend Maddy.'

'Oh, you're Doctor Phil's family,' Mycroft said and shook Shawn's hand.

Maddy giggled. 'Do you all call Phil that?'

'I'm very persuasive,' Greg winked and Mycroft rolled his eyes while Maddy smiled knowingly. 'Anyway, this is Mycroft Holmes, my boyfriend.'

'Nice to meet you,' Maddy smiled.

'Likewise,' Shawn nodded.

'As pleasant as this is,' Mycroft said slowly, 'Gregory, we have to make dinner tonight, remember?'

'Oh, yeah,' Greg nodded, though he really didn't remember. Then again, he made a lot of promises when he was horny... and seriously, what the fuck? He had a regular sex life, why was he going sex-crazy now? He needed to get home and get Mycroft naked to shut his dick up.

'And I'm sure Shawn and Maddison have things to do,' Mycroft continued.

'Yeah,' Greg said and looked at them. 'It was nice meeting you, and if you ever wanna come around the house, feel free to.'

'Of course, and you too,' Maddy smiled at Greg. 'I doubt Phil and Maggie will be breaking up any time soon.'

'God, don't remind me,' Shawn sighed. 'The way Dad goes on, it's sickening.'

'Tell me about it,' Greg grinned. Maggie didn't really "go on" about Phil, but when she got phone calls she was sickeningly sweet on the phone with the man. Greg didn't say anything, though, because more than once Maggie had witnessed Greg going gooey-eyed over Mycroft, and had seen her fair share of text conversations between the two that always left Greg smiling like an idiot.

'Leave them alone,' Mycroft said and slapped Greg's stomach.

'Spousal abuse!' Greg shouted, making Harry squeal again and make grabby motions at him. 'Hey, he likes me,' Greg grinned and waggled his fingers at the toddler again.

'Hey, if your mum ever wants to babysit, she's free to,' Shawn said.

Greg chuckled. 'I can't imagine how hard it is raising a baby.'

'It's hard,' Maddy nodded. 'But we love him.'

Greg could tell Mycroft was itching to leave- he didn't do well with new people- so smiled and said, 'We'd best be off. Say hi to Phil for us.'

'Will do,' Shawn nodded and Greg grabbed Mycroft's hand.

'Seeya,' Greg said and Maddy waved while the couple turned and headed back down the aisle. 'So, they seem nice,' he smiled.

'Mm,' Mycroft hummed. 'It must be difficult, being that young and having a son.'

'We don't have to worry about that,' Greg grinned cheekily.

Mycroft rolled his eyes but gave Greg a quick kiss. 'No, we don't,' he agreed.

'That shouldn't stop us trying, though,' Greg suggested with a leer, 'we should practice, you know, just in case.'

Mycroft smirked at him and said, 'What's the matter with you today? You're acting extra horny.'

Trust Mycroft to have noticed. 'I don't know,' Greg groaned as they started walking. 'My dick's gone crazy.'

'Mm, I'll have to take care of that,' Mycroft commented.

'Oh yeah,' Greg grinned. 'Mum doesn't get home 'til seven, so...'

'A quickie before we make dinner?' Mycroft suggested.

'Jesus, you're an awesome boyfriend,' Greg said and bounced ahead. 'Hurry up!' he called over his shoulder.

Mycroft snorted but followed along, Greg already trying to find the shortest line.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Their quickie turned into two hours tumbling around in bed together, followed by a shared shower, Mycroft stripping the sheets, and Greg hurrying to start dinner- a simple chilli chicken with rice, salad, and home-made chips. Maggie got home just as Greg was boiling the rice and dumping cut-up potatoes into a frying pan.

'Evening, honey,' she said and kissed his temple as she dumped the plastic container that had contained her lunch in the sink.

'Hey, Mum',' Greg replied and smiled at her. 'Chicken's done, just waiting on the chips and rice.'

'Smells good,' Maggie said and looked at the pot of chicken that was simmering on the stove in a sauce made of chilli, garlic, and other herbs. 'Where's Mycroft?'

'Ah... homework,' Greg lied. His mum knew he and Mycroft were having sex, obviously. But there was a difference between knowing and seeing. Since Mycroft had moved in Greg had made sure to keep stacks of extra sheets in the bottom of their shared closet. He was beginning to think they should lay a towel down or something before they went at it. But then they'd have to wash the towel...

'Sure, homework,' Maggie snorted and ruffled her son's hair. 'I'm not buying it, mister.'

Mycroft chose that moment to walk into the kitchen, freshly dressed in a pair of ratty, well-worn denim jeans, and one of Greg's old AC/DC shirts. He paused when Maggie and Greg both looked at him and said, 'Um...'

'Homework?' Maggie asked, a smirk playing on her lips.

Mycroft was silent before saying a slow, '… is important?'

Maggie snorted again and said, 'Whatever helps you sleep at night, boys.' Mycroft just frowned in confusion while Greg felt his cheeks heat up. 'I'm going to get changed and have a shower,' Maggie continued.

'Um, there might not be a lot of hot water left,' Mycroft said.

Maggie stopped halfway across the kitchen and turned back to her son. 'Homework, huh?' she teased again.

Greg just turned back to the stove and Maggie giggled before sliding past Mycroft. Silence followed before Greg heard Mycroft cross the kitchen, his socked feet muffling his steps but still audible to Greg.

'Do I want to know?' the younger boy mused as he leaned against the counter.

'God, no,' Greg shook his head roughly.

'Okay then,' Mycroft said. 'How long?'

Greg gave the rice a stir and said, 'That's done, about another minute to cook the chips, another to drain them.'

'What can I do?' Mycroft asked.

'Put some paper towels on a plate,' Greg said, 'and set the table?'

Mycroft nodded and did as asked. In a few minutes the two were dishing up the food; chilli chicken, rice, and chips going on the plates, the large bowl of salad as well as a plate of bread rolls set in the middle of the table. Mycroft grabbed a bottle of coke from the fridge, lemonade for Maggie, and Greg set out the glasses. By the time Maggie re-appeared the table was set, the food ready, and she smiled as the boys sat.

'Aren't you two gorgeous?' she said and kissed both their cheeks, earning a blush from Mycroft and a satisfied smile from Greg. 'I might just keep you both around.'

'Good to know,' Greg snorted. 'Knew you loved me for a reason.'

'Oh, there are many reasons,' Maggie smiled. 'The laughter, the tears, the food.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg rolled his eyes and poured coke into his and Mycroft's glasses.

'Seriously, boys, thank you for making dinner,' Maggie said.

'Not a problem,' Greg shrugged.

'Happy to help,' Mycroft added.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they started eating, the TV in the sitting room playing the news that Maggie half paid attention to. When she'd eaten half a bread roll stuffed with chicken and salad, Maggie said, 'How was school?'

Mycroft's entire body tensed, his fork halfway to his mouth, eyes glued to his glass. Greg swallowed his mouthful of rice and said, 'Erm... you know...'

Maggie glanced between them. 'That bad?' she asked.

'Yeah,' Greg sighed. Mycroft's eyes flickered to him and Greg shrugged one shoulder. His mum would learn one way or another, and it was easier to just tell her the truth. 'You know teenagers,' he continued, 'can't keep their damn mouths shut.'

'I know,' Maggie said and reached out to pat Mycroft's shoulder. She didn't linger long, though, knowing instinctively that Mycroft didn't want to be coddled. Greg always loved that about his mum; she knew just what to do in almost every situation. 'But just remember that what they think doesn't matter,' she said, her eyes still on her son's partner. 'Soon enough something else will happen and they'll forget about it.'

Mycroft swallowed thickly and nodded. 'I know,' he murmured softly.

'Hang in there,' Maggie said, offering him a soft smile. 'And if worse comes to worse, do something else outrageous to take their minds off it.'

Greg snorted, almost inhaling a piece of chicken. 'Good advice, Mum,' he snickered.

Maggie grinned and went back to her dinner, and Mycroft's shoulders finally relaxed minutely.

'And people wonder why I'm crazy,' Greg mused.

'Oh, you get that from me, definitely,' Maggie nodded.

Mycroft snickered and Greg pouted dramatically, which made Mycroft crack up, quickly followed by Maggie. If Greg being an idiot made Mycroft feel better, then he'd be a dickhead all night. So he threw his hands in the air, whined that nobody loved him, and made the tension in the air lift quickly until they were all chatting and teasing each other again.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Later, lying in bed together, their limbs tangled and Greg's head resting on Mycroft's chest, Greg asked, 'How are you, really?'

Mycroft let out a soft sigh. 'Better, now,' he said honestly. 'I feel a bit... recharged.'

'Yeah?' Greg asked and felt Mycroft nod against the top of his head.

'I know I shouldn't let them get to me, I never have. What other people think, what they say about me, it's never mattered. But it's harder when they drag people I care about into it.'

'Hey, I'm fine,' Greg said and leaned up to look at him. 'I'm fine, Mycroft. Like you said; the shit they say, it doesn't matter.'

'I know that,' Mycroft nodded, 'but it still hurts. I hate being in the spotlight. I prefer when people ignore me; when they know who I am, but don't acknowledge me. I've grown used to it.'

'Yeah, well... dating the town's boy slut will get people's attention,' Greg smiled slowly. 'Then leaving home to move in with said boy slut just adds fuel to the fire, really.'

'I suppose,' Mycroft chuckled. 'But I'm glad.'

Greg raised both eyebrows. 'Glad?' he echoed.

'Mm,' Mycroft nodded. He brushed his fingers through Greg's hair, smiling when Greg leaned into the touch. 'I've never been this happy, Gregory, and I wouldn't change it for the world. My coming out could have gone better, true, and I hate that I don't get to see Sherlock as often as I did. But I'm finally free of Siger and all his homophobic bullshit. I can just be _me_ , and I have people who actually care about me. So... no, I wouldn't change it at all.'

Greg blinked at him a few times before smiling. He leaned forward and kissed Mycroft slowly, softly, earning a small smile when he pulled away. 'Good,' the brunette said, ''cause I'm happy too.'

He kissed Mycroft again before settling back down, Mycroft's hand moving through his hair, down his neck, to slowly stroke his back. Greg snuggled deeper into his boyfriend's side and sighed before closing his eyes.

'Goodnight, Gregory,' Mycroft murmured softly.

''Night, Mycroft,' Greg replied.


	73. Guiding Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Guiding Light by Muse

Greg woke up to a warm weight atop him and someone nuzzling his neck. He peeled his eyes open, yawning as he did, and realised Mycroft wasn't asleep when bright blue eyes looked up at him.

'Morning,' Greg yawned again.

'Good morning, Gregory,' Mycroft replied. He pressed a gentle kiss to Greg's chest and smiled. Greg grinned in reply. Mycroft's hair was tousled, eyes still half-lidded, and he had pillow imprints on one cheek.

He looked gorgeous all ruffled, and Greg's grin widened; only _he_ was allowed to see Mycroft like this and it made him giddy.

'What are you smiling about?' Mycroft questioned.

'How adorable you look in the morning,' Greg said and chuckled when the red-head groaned.

'I look disgusting,' he muttered as he hid his face against Greg's chest.

'You're such a girl,' Greg said affectionately.

'Shut up.'

'What's the time?' Greg asked, deciding it was in his best interest to change the subject. He could feel Mycroft's erection pressed against his thigh, and if he played his cards right, he might get some type of morning sex.

'Almost six,' Mycroft answered.

Greg nodded and stretched, Mycroft not moving. He was splayed out across most of Greg's body, his chest pressed against the bulge Greg's morning wood was making in his pyjama bottoms. Their legs were tangled together, and when Greg yawned again, looking around their bedroom, he realised one of the desk chairs had been pushed under the door handle (they still hadn't got to the bloody hardware shop).

'Mycroft...?' Greg questioned, looking down at the genius.

Mycroft smiled up at him. 'Yes, Gregory dear?'

'Why's there a chair against the door?'

'Why?'

'That's what I asked.'

Mycroft's smile widened. 'Well...' he hummed before shifting himself onto his hands and knees and crawling the rest of the way up Greg's body. The brunette's breath caught in his throat as his very sexy boyfriend moved until he was sitting on his lap.

Oh, he was _so_ getting morning sex!

Mycroft ducked down to capture Greg's lips, apparently not caring about morning breath. Greg ignored it too in favour of welcoming Mycroft's tongue into his mouth, groaning when it flicked against his own. Mycroft pulled back to change his angle and kissed Greg again, sucking on the brunette's lower lip. He did it again and again until the two were mashing their mouths together, lips and tongues uncoordinated as they fought to taste as much of each other as they could.

The next time Mycroft pulled back, Greg hooked his fingers under the auburn-haired teen's shirt, tugging impatiently. Mycroft just smiled as he grabbed the hem and pulled the garment off, tossing it aside. He kissed Greg again, his hands pushing up Greg's own shirt to stroke at his chest and stomach, while he rolled his hips slowly to rub their trapped erections together.

Greg moaned, but kept in mind that it was early morning and his mum was in the house. The last thing he needed was her catching him and Mycroft shagging.

Breaking away from Greg's lips only to suck and nibble on the older teen's jaw, Mycroft hissed, 'Clothes off, _now_.'

'Yes, sir,' Greg panted. The two fumbled and rolled around on the bed and against each other as they hurried to get naked. Greg huffed when Mycroft kicked him in the thigh, retaliating by pressing his foot against Mycroft's crotch and rubbing.

'Gregory,' Mycroft growled and Greg smiled innocently.

'What?' he asked. 'Don't you wanna come?'

Mycroft growled again- and wasn't _that_ a goddamn sexy sound?- and practically pounced. He hit Greg hard and forced him onto his back. He grabbed Greg's legs and pulled them around his waist, forcing Greg to wrap them tightly around him. Next he took hold of Greg's wrists and pinned them above his head, making Greg moan.

'Love it when you take control,' he got out before Mycroft was kissing him viciously, teeth nipping, tongue fucking, and lips generally driving Greg insane. Their cocks were roughly lined up and Mycroft rolled his hips, pressing them together, and Greg moaned against Mycroft's mouth as he felt the genius' balls slide roughly along his shaft. 'F-Fuck, Myc,' he grunted.

Mycroft kissed across his lips, cheek, and jaw, before latching onto Greg's neck. Greg could do nothing but moan and cuss as Mycroft sucked what felt like a rather large hickey onto the side of his neck. He'd get crap for that from his mates, but he couldn't bring himself to give a toss at the moment.

When Mycroft was satisfied he'd abused Greg's skin as much as he could, he moved to kiss the brunette again. He finally let go of Greg's wrists, his long fingers grazing up and down Greg's arms before linking his fingers with Greg's. He squeezed tightly and Greg returned the gesture as he tried to thrust his cock against Mycroft's. He slid one leg from around Mycroft's waist and planted his foot against the bed to push up.

Mycroft cursed against his lips and Greg grinned. 'You're very proud of yourself, aren't you?' Mycroft asked, his warm, heavy breath blowing across Greg's mouth.

'Uh-huh,' Greg grunted, thrusting harder. He watched Mycroft bite his bottom lip, already swollen from kissing and blood-red. Greg was just about to kiss him again when Mycroft suddenly pulled away.

Greg could admit that he whined. When he tried again to kiss, lick, and generally do naughty things to those delicious lips, the genius sat further back.

'What?' Greg asked. 'What's wrong?'

Instead of answering Mycroft grabbed Greg's left hand. The brunette sat up and Mycroft shifted further back to let him move comfortably. The younger boy took Greg's left fingers in his hand and slowly ran his fingertips over Greg's, frowning after a second.

'Mycroft?' Greg questioned again.

'You're developing callouses on your left fingertips,' Mycroft said and looked up at Greg, blue eyes narrowed in confused, eyebrows scrunched together. 'Why have you been playing guitar?'

Greg froze, lips slowly parting. _Ah, right..._ 'Should have known better than to hide somethin' from you,' Greg huffed.

'Gregory?' Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

'I've been... um... tryin' to teach myself,' Greg said slowly.

'Why?' Mycroft asked.

'Um...' Greg hesitated before saying, 'it's a secret.'

Mycroft frowned. 'Why?'

'Please don't be mad,' Greg said, 'I've been practising on the guitars at school, and yours when you're out with Sherlock. It's, uh... it's really important, so please don't ask me to tell you why I'm learning.'

Mycroft's frown deepened, but he didn't say anything. He just stared at Greg, blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, as he thought quickly. After a few minutes of silence he released Greg's hand and said, 'Okay.'

Greg blinked. 'O-Okay?' he stuttered.

Mycroft nodded and said, 'If it's important-'

'It is,' Greg interrupted.

'- then I won't ask,' Mycroft continued. 'And you can play my guitars, I don't mind. Just tell me if you scratch any of them or break the strings.'

Greg nodded quickly. ''Course,' he said, 'I promise I'm careful.'

'Okay,' Mycroft said.

The two sat in silence, staring at each other, fidgeting.

'You'll find out soon,' Greg blurted. Mycroft raised a rust-coloured eyebrow. 'I promise,' Greg continued, 'I'll tell you everything soon, I'll show you.'

'I trust you, Gregory,' Mycroft said. 'I just don't understand why you hid it.'

'It, uh... it's important, for you,' Greg told him, 'I didn't want to ruin the surprise.'

Mycroft's other eyebrow joined the first one. 'Oh...'

'Yeah,' Greg hummed.

'So... a surprise for me?' Mycroft asked, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. Greg nodded. 'Well, you should definitely take a break,' Mycroft said and wrapped his hand around the back of Greg's neck.

Greg grinned. 'Should I?'

'Definitely,' Mycroft said and sealed his mouth back against Greg's.

Greg hummed and let Mycroft push him back down, their hips already rolling together.

They made out for another few minutes- Greg taking great delight in sucking on Mycroft's tongue, earning delicious little noises from the genius- before Mycroft pulled back.

'Hang on,' Mycroft panted. Greg groaned but let Mycroft pull away, and watched impatiently as the younger boy reached over, tugging the top drawer of the bedside table open. He reached inside, pulled out a bottle of lube, and left the drawer open as he quickly climbed back between Greg's legs.

'You know,' Greg said conversationally as Mycroft popped the cap and squeezed a dollop of clear gel onto his palm, 'we should invest in flavoured lube.'

'Should we?' Mycroft asked, tossing the bottle aside.

'Mm-hmm.' Greg hissed when Mycroft's cold hand wrapped around his cock, pumping a few times to spread the gel. When he was satisfied he took himself in hand, spread the liquid, and then moved closer to line their cocks up.

'Why?' Mycroft questioned. He wrapped his hand around both of them and whatever Greg was going to say was lost to a choked gasp, quickly followed by a moan. Mycroft's fingers easily circled around them both and they rocked their hips in time with Mycroft's tugs. 'Why?' Mycroft repeated when Greg remained silent. He leaned closer to breathe heavily over Greg's lips.

'Uh... hnn...' Greg moaned, wrapping his legs around Mycroft's waist. 'Uh... ya know,' he grunted, licking his lips as he looked up at Mycroft. 'Just... somethin' d-d-different- _fuck!_ '

Mycroft smirked. He was rubbing the tip of Greg's dick with his thumb, smearing lube and pre-come, while his free hand alternated between tugging on Greg's balls and reaching back between his cheeks. Their position didn't give Mycroft a lot of access, but he seemed content to tease his boyfriend to within an inch of his life.

'Have you ever... tried flavoured... lubricant?' Mycroft asked slowly, every few words cut off by low breathing and soft grunts.

'N-No,' Greg answered. He pushed up, trying to get Mycroft to move faster, and the red-head complied by snapping his hips as they slid against each other.

'I like cherry,' Mycroft told him before crashing their lips together. Further conversation ground to a halt as the genius' hand sped up, pulling their cocks together, thumb swiping messily over their heads to add more stimulation. His free hand snaked out from between them and pressed hard against the mattress beside Greg's head, arm occasionally brushing the brunette's cheek when Greg's head thrashed from side-to-side.

It was too early for Greg to even bother trying to drag this out, he was too close. He felt his stomach twist, his muscles clamp up, and his legs tighten around Mycroft's waist only seconds before he came messily between them.

He groaned Mycroft's name as his vision washed-out, and he vaguely heard Mycroft curse and climax atop him. When Mycroft pulled back, flopping onto his side by Greg's legs, Greg shifted about and trailed his fingers through the mess all over his stomach and chest.

'Mm... Mycroft?'

Mycroft rolled over and opened his eyes, looking up at Greg from the foot of the bed. 'What?'

'Feel free to wake me up like that whenever you want,' Greg chuckled.

Laughing, Mycroft rolled onto his back and grinned at the ceiling.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Maggie looked up when Greg entered the kitchen whistling. She watched as her son pulled two bowls from the cupboard, followed by cereal. He poured a generous amount in each bowl before replacing the box and then going to the fridge for the milk.

'Morning,' Maggie finally said.

'Mornin',' Greg replied happily.

'You're in a good mood for seven-thirty,' Maggie noted, taking a bite of toast and watching as Greg grabbed spoons and sat opposite her.

'What can I say?' Greg shrugged. 'Just in a good mood is all.'

'Mm,' Maggie hummed before asking, 'Where's Mycroft?'

'Bathroom,' Greg said. 'I swear, he takes longer than you getting ready.'

Maggie chuckled and shook her head, choosing not to comment as Greg poured milk into his bowl and started eating. They sat in silence- Greg still humming after every bite, Maggie reading the morning paper- until Mycroft entered. His uniform was as impeccable as always, his hair neatly combed and styled, and Greg grinned at him, Mycroft returning a soft smile.

'Good morning, Margaret,' Mycroft said and took the seat to Greg's right.

'Morning, Mycroft,' the woman replied.

'How are you this morning?'

'Fine, thank you,' Maggie said.

'Not gonna ask how I am?' Greg pouted at his boyfriend. Maggie shook her head as Mycroft leaned over to plant a soft kiss on Greg's lips. 'Okay, you're forgiven,' the brunette grinned.

'Of course I am,' Mycroft drawled and reached for the milk. Greg had finished his own bowl and seemed too lazy to go get the box, so he scooted closer to Mycroft and stole the spoonful of cereal before it could reach the auburn-haired teen's mouth. 'Greg!' he snapped.

'Wha?' Greg mumbled as he chewed. ''m 'ungry.'

'Get your own.'

Greg swallowed and said, 'Hey, I poured you the bowl. So technically it _is_ mine.'

'You set it aside for me, so it's mine.' Greg tried to snatch another spoonful but Mycroft tugged it away. 'No.'

'Aww, don't be mean,' Greg pouted.

'Get your own,' Mycroft told him.

'I don't wanna.'

'You're such a child.'

'Am not.'

'Childish, dear,' Mycroft told him.

'You love it, darling,' Greg retorted.

Maggie smiled as the two boys continued to bicker- Greg eventually gave in and went to grab the box- and thought briefly about mornings _before_ Mycroft had moved in with them. Usually Greg would be only half-awake, either too tired from staying up late or hungover.

She looked up to see Greg chewing loudly in Mycroft's face and proclaiming his bowl was the very _best_ Coco Pops he'd _ever_ had _ever_. Mycroft thumped in the thigh and Greg pouted dramatically.

Breakfast was a lot more fun with Mycroft around, Maggie noted with a grin.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Okay, we can do this,' Greg said, jumping around Mycroft as he gave his pep-talk (Greg's words, not Mycroft's). The taller boy rolled his eyes as Greg continued, 'Just tell anyone who asks to fuck off, and if that doesn't work threaten them, and if _that_ doesn't work deduce everything you can, and if _that_ doesn't work-'

'Yes, I understand, Gregory,' Mycroft interrupted. 'I can take care of myself.'

''Course you can,' Greg nodded, 'I'm just, you know... I'm worried, is all.'

'I know, love,' Mycroft said and grabbed Greg's hand to stop him bouncing around. He'd had three bowls of Coco Pops and Mycroft feared the sugar rush was only just hitting. 'I'll be fine, I promise,' Mycroft continued. 'We'll get through the entire day, because we can't afford to miss any more classes. Exams are coming up, as well as applications for university, and we can't have any distractions.'

'Right...' Greg groaned. 'University.'

'You _want_ to go,' Mycroft reminded him.

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg muttered. 'I just... Christ, paperwork of any kind bores me to tears.'

'You'll live,' Mycroft said and pressed a chaste kiss to Greg's lips. 'Now come, I want a cigarette, and I need to go over my English Literature homework.'

'Ooh, can you go over mine, too?' Greg asked.

'Yes, Gregory.'

'And maybe my Science homework?' Greg continued. ''Cause I reckon I got about twenty of the worksheet questions wrong.'

Mycroft frowned as they walked across the grass, heading towards the smokers' corner. 'How many are there?' he asked.

'Twenty,' Greg answered.

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his eyes while Greg just smiled. 'You'll be the death of me, Gregory,' the younger teen informed him.

'I'll shag your brains out before you go,' Greg vowed, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically.

Mycroft just shook his head.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Mycroft!'

Mycroft looked up from where he was checking Greg's homework- he'd got _two_ questions wrong, proving to Mycroft that his boyfriend was an over-dramatic git- and spotted Sherlock and John rounding the corner.

'Sherlock?' he questioned while Greg just puffed on his cigarette and nodded at the younger teenagers. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing I can think of,' Sherlock said. 'Although one of my experiments went a bit wrong and I might have blown up the oven.'

Mycroft sighed.

'Mrs Hudson wasn't very happy,' John told him.

'No, I wouldn't be either,' Mycroft muttered. He handed Greg his exercise book back, quickly saying, 'I corrected what you got wrong in your handwriting,' before looking back at Sherlock. 'So what is it?'

'Mother wants to know what you're doing for Christmas,' Sherlock stated.

Mycroft sighed. It was the 6th, meaning they had another week of school starting Monday until the holidays began on the 16th for Baker Street and most of the other independent schools in the area, while those like Patcham High School didn't get out until the 20th.

The Holmes family- meaning Siger- always threw a rather lavish Christmas party on the 24th, inviting all of Siger's business partners as well as the most prestigious people in the area (read snobs).

Every year Mycroft and Sherlock had been forced into their finest suits and made to charm their way through the various guests. It always made Mycroft want to get completely drunk- which he often did afterwards with Anthea in his bedroom- or murder his father violently with the Christmas tree (that thought was becoming more and more prominent every year).

Christmas would then be spent mostly in silence with an absent father, an elder son who was most likely hungover, an annoyed younger brother, and a mother prattling on about this and that.

But this year, Mycroft didn't have to go. He very much doubted that Siger would ever let him back in the house. Which meant he was free for Christmas. He could do what he wanted. He could celebrate with people who cared about him.

'He's spending it with me and Mum,' Greg said while Mycroft was lost in thought. The red-head looked up at him and Greg wet his lips. 'Um... aren't you?'

'Of course I am,' Mycroft said and Greg sighed in relief. 'That's if you want me, of course.'

'Yeah, we do,' Greg said immediately, smiling broadly.

Mycroft smiled in return and Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'I knew you'd say that,' the younger Holmes muttered. 'Mother wants to see you Christmas Eve at least, preferably at the Manor.'

Mycroft frowned. 'You can't be serious.'

'That's what she said,' Sherlock shrugged. 'She said you come to the party every year, and she wants you there, regardless of what Father says.'

'Siger won't let me in the house,' Mycroft pointed out.

'Mother said she'd handle it,' Sherlock repeated. 'And she said to invite Gregory and Ms Lestrade.'

'Serious?' Greg laughed. 'As if Siger Holmes will let _me_ in his manor.'

'What did I just say, Lestrade?' Sherlock snapped.

'Easy,' Greg muttered. 'Don't get your panties in a twist, Sherly.'

John snickered but pasted an innocent smile on his face when Sherlock turned to glare at him.

'Anyway,' the young genius said, 'Mother will be sending an official invitation in the post, or with me, she hasn't decided yet. She wants you to come, Mycroft.'

'And you?' Mycroft asked.

Sherlock shrugged one shoulder and looked down. 'I don't care,' he sniffed dismissively, but even Greg could tell that he wanted to see his brother, either before or on Christmas. Mycroft sighed; he _really_ didn't want to go. He hated his father and never wanted to see the bastard again.

On the other hand, it would be nice to spend a night with Sherlock and Meghan.

'I'll think about it,' he offered.

A smile spread across Sherlock's face before he could hide it, and when he did he just sniffed and said, 'Whatever,' before grabbing John's hand and tugging him away, the shorter boy waving over his shoulder.

'Well...' Greg hummed. 'Massive snobby party at Holmes Manor, eh?'

'They're _so_ boring,' Mycroft groaned. 'The only good thing is the alcohol.'

'Well, Mum might wanna go,' Greg shrugged before asking, 'uh... do _you_ wanna go?'

'Part of me does,' Mycroft said honestly. 'But I really don't want to see my father.' He looked at his boyfriend. 'Can you imagine what he'll do if I turn up with you?'

'Yeah,' Greg said. _That_ wouldn't go down well. 'Well, we could stay at home Christmas Eve and fuck all night,' he suggested and Mycroft chuckled, ' _or_ , we could go, have a good time with your mother and brother, and fuck in Siger's study.'

'I like that idea,' Mycroft grinned.

'So...'

'I suppose we can go,' Mycroft said, 'if Siger lets us in the house.'

'You reckon he'll cause a scene?' Greg asked.

'I don't know. He doesn't answer the door, he just waits inside the ballroom for the important people and shakes hands, sucks up, the usual.'

Greg blinked rapidly. 'Wait, you have a _ballroom_?'

'Of course he does,' Mycroft snorted, 'he's Siger Holmes.'

'Yeah...'

'We'll wait for the invitation and see what your mother says,' Mycroft said. 'We can decide closer to the date. There's no rush.'

'Alright,' Greg agreed. 'Whatever you want in the end I'll support, 'kay?'

Mycroft smiled and gave Greg a kiss. The bell went before they could prolong it and Greg groaned.

'Up,' Mycroft said and nudged him while he stood.

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg sighed and stood, stretching. He wondered where Dimmock had got to; usually he met Greg at smokers' corner before classes. 'God, I hate school.'

'And life just gets better afterwards, doesn't it?' Mycroft said cheerily.

Greg groaned again.


	74. Hufflepuffs and Slytherins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver

Greg and Mycroft managed to get through the day mostly unscathed. There were a few fights (Sherlock Holmes going crazy and trying to bite people), a few shouts (Lily was really going into mother-bear mode when it came to people gossiping about her friends), and some teachers telling students to shut it (mostly Mr Jambrook, who seemed to have taken a liking to the young couple despite their rocky start, what with the dirty notes he'd confiscated before Greg and Mycroft had even started dating).

Still, Greg and Mycroft were both feeling emotionally drained by the time they left, and they stopped at the hardware store to _finally_ buy a lock before heading home. The weather had turned bitterly cold, with snow already threatening to fall, and Greg seriously hoped there weren't going to be any horrible blizzards like past years. He liked the cold, yes, but having to dig your car out from under a mountain of freezing cold snow wasn't his idea of a good time. Still, the thought of snuggling under the blankets with Mycroft, pressed close together to steal each other's body heat, did sound awfully good.

Maggie was at the hospital and wouldn't get off for another half-an-hour, so Greg and Mycroft made the most of their time by blowing each other in the shower. Feeling boneless afterwards, and dressed in comfy sweats and a baggy jumper, Greg sprawled himself across the bed while Mycroft sat on the floor going through his school bag.

'What do you wanna do?' Greg asked suddenly.

'Homework?' Mycroft suggested.

'Finished it at lunch,' Greg said.

'Really?' Mycroft hummed. 'I'm impressed, Mr Lestrade.'

'Do I get another blow job?' Greg asked, flopping onto his stomach and grinning at his partner.

'You're incorrigible.'

'But you love me anyway,' Greg beamed brightly.

Mycroft smiled warmly at him. He did. He _really_ did. Shaking his head, Mycroft pushed his bag aside and stretched his legs. 'How about we go through that box of crap in the bottom of our wardrobe? You know, the one you said you'd go through after you found it?'

'Aww, don't wanna,' Greg pouted.

'There might be something interesting in there,' Mycroft said, already crawling across the floorboards towards the wardrobe. Greg didn't answer, instead staring intently at Mycroft's arse. Damn, he really wanted to touch... Greg stretched across the mattress, making grabby motions for Mycroft's arse, but he was too far away.

Greg whined and when Mycroft looked over his shoulder he rolled his eyes.

'Honestly, Gregory.'

'What? It's _your_ fault that you have a gorgeous arse,' Greg told him.

'How?' Mycroft asked.

'Just is,' Greg grinned. 'Now get it over here.'

'No,' Mycroft said. Greg pouted but the auburn-haired teen ignored him, instead pulling the wardrobe doors open and pushing stuff aside. Greg had found the medium-sized cardboard box in the bottom of his wardrobe after cleaning it out before it was moved to be replaced by Mycroft's larger one. He hadn't bothered looking inside, not even for a second, instead just transferring it to the bigger wardrobe and promising to go through it later.

Well, it was later, and Greg had just admitted to being bored a few minutes ago.

'Mycroft, come on,' Greg whined. 'Sex is a lot more fun than going through rubbish.'

'It's your rubbish, and we should throw it out if you don't want it,' Mycroft said.

'I hate you,' Greg muttered, but got up when Mycroft placed the box on the floor.

He helped the brown-eyed teen rip the tape off and open it. Inside was mostly rubbish, like Mycroft had feared; old exercise books and textbooks, a few pens and a VHS tape of _The Little Mermaid_ and _Beauty & the Beast _(Greg blushed, admitting they were his guilty pleasures when he was eleven). Underneath the torn pieces of paper, though, was what appeared to be a gaming system, controllers, and games.

'What's this?' he asked.

'Oh, it's my old Game Cube,' Greg said.

'Game Cube?' Mycroft questioned.

'Yeah, a gaming system,' Greg said, reaching further into the box. He pulled out the stack of games- Mycroft counted about five- and blew dust off them. 'Wanna see if it still works?' Greg asked.

'If you want,' Mycroft shrugged. He picked up the plastic cases and started going through them, reading the titles.

'Whatchya wanna play?' Greg asked.

'Hmm...' Mycroft hummed before plucking out a game, 'Harry Potter Quidditch?'

'Ooh, I was _so_ addicted to that,' Greg said. 'Used to play it for hours until Mum finally snapped and made me put it away. Guess I forgot about it.'

Mycroft helped Greg pick up everything they'd need and they trudged through the house. While Greg set up the Game Cube in the sitting room, Mycroft grabbed blankets and pillows and spread them before the TV. He also grabbed some crisps and cokes and the two sat before the TV while Greg switched everything on.

'Still works,' Greg grinned, tapping at the buttons. 'I wanted a Play Station 2 when I was younger but Mum couldn't afford one. She got this cheap from a guy down the street whose son had outgrown it. Best present _ever_.'

Mycroft cocked his head as he watched Greg, the older teen with a grin on his face, happiness in his eyes. Mycroft had realised long ago that money didn't buy happiness and this was his proof; Greg's mum hadn't been able to afford expensive electronics when Greg was growing up.

Greg had settled for a second-hand, out-of-date gaming system because it was better than nothing. Greg's mobile was an old touch-screen model, his laptop was at least three years old, as was his iPod, and he hadn't had a TV in his room until Mycroft had moved in.

Mycroft had grown up with everything; flashy televisions and mobile phones, laptops, home-computers, music systems, whatever he wanted. But through it all Mycroft had been lonely, pissed off, depressed; he'd wanted nothing more than for his parents to just _love_ him.

Greg had an amazing mother who cared for him, who showed that she loved him every day. And because of that, Greg didn't care about material objects.

'What?' Greg said, breaking Mycroft out of his thoughts. The younger teen shook his head and leaned forward, kissing Greg softly. Greg smiled goofily and said, 'Just can't stay away, huh?'

'Shut up,' Mycroft said, nudging Greg's shoulder with his own.

Greg grinned and they turned their attention back to the TV. 'So, world cup or just Hogwarts houses?' Greg asked.

'Houses first, I don't know how to play,' Mycroft said as he peered down at the numerous buttons on his purple controller.

'It's easy, you'll pick it up,' Greg said. 'Besides, I haven't played in years; it'll take me ages to figure it out too.' He glanced back up at the screen as he pressed and tapped various buttons, soon opening a new screen. 'I bags Gryffindor!' he practically shouted.

Mycroft snorted.

'What?' Greg asked. 'Everyone wants to be Gryffindor.'

'Only because Harry Potter was in Gryffindor,' Mycroft muttered. 'Everyone just wants to follow what's popular.'

Greg frowned. 'Fine, Mr High-And-Mighty; who do _you_ wanna be?'

'Slytherin, of course,' Mycroft smirked. 'Sly, cunning-'

'Evil,' Greg interjected.

'One bad seed doesn't make everything rotten,' Mycroft commented.

Greg frowned before opening his mouth and trying to think of a witty retort. When nothing came to mind, he snapped his jaw shut and pouted.

'Fine, Slytherin,' Greg finally muttered. 'I'll show you.'

Mycroft didn't say anything as Greg started the game; he was too focused on trying to work out what buttons did what.

'I thought you'd wanna be Ravenclaw,' Greg admitted as he easily worked through the menus. 'Clever and all that.'

'While I value intelligence, and though Ravenclaw would make more sense for me,' Mycroft said slowly, 'I must admit that I would prefer being in a house that suits my plans to slowly take over Britain through the use of people and other channels while I remain in the shadows collecting power. Slytherin stands for loyalty and cunning, two traits I admire when used correctly, and two traits I myself will be looking for when I eventually rise to power.'

Greg blinked slowly as he turned to look at his boyfriend, who was staring at the two little joysticks; why were two needed?

'Wow,' Greg hummed. 'Ah, you've really thought this through.'

'Of course I have,' Mycroft snorted. 'Hasn't our entire generation?'

'Only Potterheads.'

'And how do you know that term, Gregory dear?' Mycroft questioned, turning his piercing blue eyes on his boyfriend.

'Ah...' Greg blushed, 'I may or may not have read some stuff on the internet and... you know, joined Pottermore.'

Mycroft chuckled.

'What? All the cool kids were doing it!' Greg pouted.

'I joined Pottermore too,' Mycroft smiled. 'Before the website got glitchy and wouldn't let me move on past _The Whomping Willow_ in book two.'

'Yeah, I had that problem too,' Greg nodded. 'What house did you get sorted into?'

'Slytherin,' Mycroft answered. 'I thought I'd go to Ravenclaw- before then I'd always thought of myself as an Eagle- but Pottermore was created by J.K. Rowling, therefore it knows best.'

'Mm,' Greg hummed.

'And you?' Mycroft asked.

Greg pouted. 'Hufflepuff.' Mycroft laughed. 'What?'

'Nothing,' Mycroft shook his head. 'I just don't understand why people are against Hufflepuff. Loyal, hardworking, accepting of everyone... how is any of that bad?'

'It's not,' Greg said.

'So why do you want to be Gryffindor?' Mycroft asked. 'What's wrong with Hufflepuff?'

Greg could think of nothing to say to that. When it came time to choose their teams, Mycroft went with Slytherin, and Greg picked the yellow and black house. Mycroft smiled at him and Greg shrugged.

'Badgers are loyal, right?' he said. Mycroft nodded. 'Right, so I'm a badger,' he said.

'A badger and a snake, working together,' Mycroft hummed. 'Interesting.'

'It'll be _more_ interesting when I kick your arse,' Greg vowed.

'Bring it,' Mycroft smirked.

The game was very, _very_ confusing to Mycroft, who had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Greg just used it to his advantage, scoring points all over the place, leaving Mycroft to fend for himself. The genius kept looking at Greg and noted what _he_ was doing, and soon enough he'd figured out the general controls and posed a serious challenge for Greg, much to the brunette's annoyance.

Greg was very vocal when he played; shouting, cursing, throwing crisps around and chugging down his coke like he was watching a real life sport. Mycroft spent half his time chuckling and picking crisps from his lap.

When it became clear that Mycroft was a fast learner, Greg started to cheat; he nudged Mycroft with his shoulder, spilled soft drink on him, and pressed his lips to Mycroft's neck to break his concentration.

But Mycroft, very much a Slytherin, was just as sneaky and underhanded. He used the same techniques, adding the odd hand in Greg's crotch, and by the time the Snitch appeared Mycroft was leading by ten points.

Greg and Mycroft both shouted at each other, the TV, and various other things as their seekers battled along the golden path for the snitch.

After almost two minutes Mycroft was in the lead and both boys watched as the green-and-silver player snatched the snitch from the air, securing the game for Slytherin.

'YES!' Mycroft shouted while Greg screamed, 'NO!'

Greg leapt to his feet and cursed, stomping about and up-ending his can of coke. Mycroft grabbed it before it could spill across the carpet and giggled.

'What is so damn funny?' Greg demanded.

'I won,' Mycroft smirked.

'Yeah, well... I let you,' Greg snapped.

'No you didn't.'

'Yes I did!'

'Didn't.'

'Did!' Greg shouted.

Mycroft paused, inclining one rust-coloured eyebrow, before saying, 'Didn't.'

Greg launched himself at his boyfriend and the two went tumbling back, Mycroft hitting the blanket on his back with Greg between his legs. Mycroft let out a breath of air that was quickly swallowed when Greg's lips crushed against his own, his fingers tangling in Mycroft's short auburn hair.

'I... still... won...' Mycroft muttered between kisses.

Greg ignored him, instead sucking Mycroft's tongue into his mouth. Mycroft groaned loudly and wrapped his arms and legs around Greg, tugging the older teen further down until their bodies were flush against each other, hardening cocks rubbing together through their trousers.

Greg's fingers twisted harder through Mycroft's hair and tugged his head up, deepening the kiss further until their tongues were battling for dominance. Mycroft's right hand ran through Greg's hair before wrapping around his neck, keeping the older boy in place. His left was gripping Greg's arse and pulling him forward and back, making the two rut against each other hard.

Greg was just considering pulling back and ripping Mycroft's jeans open when the front door banged open. The two broke apart and Greg scrambled back, falling on his arse. Mycroft stayed on his back breathing heavily and blushed when Maggie appeared with Sherlock and John.

Sherlock grimaced and started muttering about "sex-crazed brothers", while John blushed a bright pink, eyes darting from Mycroft, to Greg, to the floor, and back to Mycroft again. Maggie rolled her eyes and said, 'Honestly, can't you go _five_ minutes without touching each-'

'Mum!' Greg interrupted, scrubbing at his lips.

'Sorry, sorry,' Maggie smiled.

'Sherlock, John, what are you doing here?' Mycroft asked as he sat up.

'I wanted to hang out with you,' Sherlock said. 'Is that a crime?'

'No,' Mycroft said. 'Why, have you committed any crimes?'

Sherlock frowned as he thought. 'Not that I'm aware of.'

'He hasn't,' John said quickly. 'Honestly.'

'Mm-hmm,' Mycroft hummed.

'Why didn't you phone?' Greg asked his mother, who was unwinding her scarf and hanging up her coat.

'Meghan called me and asked if they could come over,' Maggie explained, 'I was on my way home, I said yes, and I figured it was fine. I didn't know you two would be dry humping in the sitting room.'

' _Mum_!' Greg moaned while Mycroft blushed and Sherlock and John sniggered. Maggie just grinned, ruffled Greg's hair, and asked the two younger boys if she could get them anything.

'Well, Mycroft's been praising Gregory's culinary talents for a good few weeks now,' Sherlock said slowly, 'perhaps Gregory could make John and me something?'

Greg glared at the curly-haired teen, fully prepared to tell him to _shove it_ , but Maggie said, 'Of course, dear. Greg, why don't you make some toasties?'

'But-'

'I'll have cheese and roast beef,' Maggie interrupted, disappearing down the hallway.

'I hate you,' Greg snapped at Sherlock as he stood.

'I love you too, Gregory,' Sherlock grinned and blew a kiss at him.

'I'll help,' Mycroft said and quickly escaped into the kitchen with his boyfriend.

Greg was pulling the toastie maker out of one of the bottom cupboards. 'I hate your brother,' he announced as he put it on the counter.

'So I've heard,' Mycroft mused. 'What do you need from the fridge?'

'What are they having?'

'Sherlock will have cheese and ham, John I'm not sure about,' Mycroft said.

The words had just left his mouth when John walked into the kitchen. 'Uh, sorry about Sherlock,' he apologised. 'Do you need any help?'

'Nah, I got it,' Greg smiled at him. 'Toasties fine with you?' When John nodded he asked, 'What kind?'

'Just cheese and tomato is fine, thank you,' John said before leaving.

'Two cheese and tomatoes,' Mycroft said and opened the fridge.

'Make that three,' Greg told him. 'And grab the butter and chilli sauce while you're at it.'

'Yes, dear.'

Greg chuckled and Mycroft smiled as he grabbed the ingredients.


	75. Missing You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** chasingriver
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Missing You by Green Day

They quickly fell into an easy rhythm; Mycroft slicing the ingredients, Greg buttering the bread and cutting the toasties when they were done. The maker only cooked two at a time so it took a while, but eventually Greg had four plates with a toastie on each, two on the plate he was sharing with Mycroft. He walked into the sitting room to find Sherlock and John arguing over the Game Cube and Maggie reading on the sofa.

'Thank you, dear,' she said when Mycroft handed over her plate. 'Greg, why don't you set that up in your bedroom?'

Greg took the hint and unplugged the Game Cube while Mycroft made Sherlock and John go to the bedroom. When Greg entered Sherlock was stuffing his face (and swearing when he burnt himself), while John was picking at his and Mycroft was doing a bit of quick cleaning.

'This place is disgusting,' Sherlock grunted as he watched Mycroft grab a pair of Greg's boxers.

'It is not,' Greg countered and went to the dresser. Mycroft's rather large TV had been set atop it and Greg pushed some CDs aside to make room for the Game Cube. 'It's just... eclectic.'

Sherlock snorted. 'No, eclectic is the layout of the room, Lestrade. The floor, on the other hand, is _disgusting_.'

'Sherlock, leave it,' John said from beside his boyfriend. 'We're guests here, you shouldn't be so rude.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes but went quiet, and when Greg looked at John the younger boy winked. Greg had to laugh. John had been so shy and quiet the first time Greg had met him, but it seemed his relationship with Sherlock had brought him out of his shell.

'Do you have games besides Harry Potter?' Sherlock asked when Greg had turned the TV on. 'Like something with explosions?'

'What is it with you and blowing crap up?' Greg asked.

'I like it,' Sherlock grinned.

Greg grabbed the games he'd stacked beside the Game Cube and said, 'Uh, I got a spy one where you can shoot people, and another Harry Potter one; The Prisoner of Azkaban. Also got Tony Hawk's Pro Skater.'

Sherlock groaned dramatically but said, 'The spy one, I suppose.' Greg switched the disks and Sherlock and John crawled further towards the TV so they could reach the controllers. 'Why don't you get a proper gaming system?' Sherlock complained.

'Sherlock,' Mycroft hissed and flicked his ear.

'Ow! What'd I do?' the younger Holmes grumbled.

'It's alright,' Greg shrugged. 'We can't all afford everything, Sherlock.'

'Make Mycroft buy it,' Sherlock grumbled and turned back to the TV.

'Sherlock,' John warned softly.

'I hate you all!' Sherlock declared and focused his eyes on the TV.

Greg just snorted and Mycroft rolled his eyes. The older boys sat beside the desk and started eating.

'I'm sorry about him,' Mycroft murmured.

Greg shrugged. 'S'fine. I'm used to him.' He looked around the room. 'He's right, anyway.'

Mycroft chuckled and said, 'I've told you not to leave your pants lying around.'

'It's _my_ bedroom,' Greg huffed, 'I'll leave 'em around if I want.'

'Yes, dear,' Mycroft replied and leaned over to kiss him.

'Hey!' Sherlock shouted and the couple turned to see the younger boy glaring at them. 'I came here to spend time with my brother,' Sherlock said, 'not watch him suck face with his boyfriend!'

'You can't have one without the other,' Mycroft shrugged and kissed Greg again.

'John!' Sherlock whined and the shorter boy looked at him. 'Make them stop!'

'How?' John asked.

'Just... make them!' Sherlock ordered.

Greg shook his head and said, 'How about you and Mycroft play, Sherlock, and I'll keep John busy?'

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked between Greg and John.

'I'll be fine,' John chuckled, pecking Sherlock on the cheek. 'I'll still be in the same room and everything.'

'Fine,' Sherlock said. 'Mycroft, come play with me!'

It was an order, not a request, so Mycroft smiled at Greg before switching places with John.

'Hey, lock the door?' Greg asked John.

John raised both eyebrows but did as asked, sliding the lock on the door into place. Greg nodded in thanks and dug his cigarettes out of his school bag. John watched as he pushed the bedroom window open, shivering slightly when a cold wind blew across his body. Greg set himself on the windowsill, lit up, and breathed out heavily as he blew smoke above his head.

'Alright there?' John asked, an amused smile on his face.

'Fine now,' Greg grinned. 'Word of advice, John; don't ever try smoking. It starts as one, maybe two, a week, and next thing you're smoking a pack every three days.'

'I'm not about to start,' John wrinkled his nose as a waft of smoke washed across his face. 'It smells disgusting.'

Greg just nodded and continued smoking as John finished off his toastie. Across the room they could hear Sherlock and Mycroft arguing over who was playing next; the spy game was one-player only.

When Greg was finished he stuffed his cigarette butt into the jar he always used, climbed back into the room, and shut the window most of the way. John was browsing through the novels Mycroft had stacked on one side of the desk.

'You like James Bond?' Greg asked when he saw John eyeing the complete collection Mycroft had.

'Yeah, I've seen all the movies, and I loved the newest one,' John nodded. 'Never read the books, though. I'm not a big reader.'

'Me either,' Greg said. 'Though I've read more since Mycroft moved in; he's got books about _everything_.'

'Yeah?' John asked.

Greg nodded. 'Teenage spies, the American military, fantasy, sci-fi, even _Doctor Who_ novels.'

'I've always wanted to read one!' John said, eyes wide, and Greg grinned.

'Ask Mycroft when he's done arguing with Sherlock,' Greg said and glanced at his boyfriend, who was ruffling Sherlock's hair (much to Sherlock's annoyance). 'He'll probably lend you a few.'

John nodded, looking happy, and Greg picked up his toastie. The plate was still mostly full, Mycroft having only eaten half of his. They were cold but Greg still enjoyed them, so he took a huge bite.

'So how're you and Sherlock doing?' Greg asked through his mouthful.

'Good,' John said, his eyes lighting up. 'It was a bit weird at first, trying to figure out what had changed and all that, but we're good now. Sherlock likes holding my hand a lot.'

He blushed lightly and Greg grinned. He was so adorable. Greg remembered when he and Mycroft had first got together- not dating, just doing stuff- and how he'd felt holding his hand, or just sitting with him. Of course, they'd both been denying there was anything between them other than lust. Greg wished he'd had the balls to admit that he fancied Mycroft earlier on. He and Mycroft had only been officially dating almost two months, but they'd been together since early September, so really it was almost four months.

'We spend as much time together as we did before,' John continued after a minute, 'but now I get to kiss him and stuff. It's great.'

'Good, I'm glad,' Greg nodded. 'Have you told your parents yet?'

'No,' John sighed. 'There's been a lot of family stuff going on lately.' When Greg frowned, John said, 'My sister, Harry, she was kicked out of university.'

'Shit, really?'

John nodded. 'She turned up to class drunk and apparently it was the sixth time or something. She was studying at a small university in London and she was always in trouble for talking back in class, swearing, and generally being... Harry. My parents wanted her to move back home but she's got a job in London and wants to stay in her flat. That and she's dating her roommate, Clara, and doesn't want to break up with her.'

'Damn, I'm sorry to hear that,' Greg said honestly.

John shrugged one shoulder. 'I'll tell them when everything calms down a bit. No doubt they'll just tell me that my relationship with Sherlock won't last, seeing how young we are.'

'Just ignore them if they sat that,' Greg said. 'If you and Sherlock break up in the future, you break up. If you don't, well, all the better.'

'I hate this game!' Sherlock announced and threw the controller at the bed. 'Mycroft, make it go away!'

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his eyes. He turned to look over his shoulder. 'Gregory, John, do you want to play?'

Greg looked at John, who shrugged, and said, 'Yeah, why not?'

The four swapped places, Sherlock immediately telling Mycroft about a new experiment he was conducting with mould. Greg hated mould- the very thought of it made him want to hurl- so he focused on changing the game (John wanted to play Harry Potter Quidditch again) and sat on the bed beside the younger boy to play. He went with Hufflepuff again, John Gryffindor, and they quickly lost themselves in the game.

Greg didn't realise how long he'd been playing until Maggie knocked on the door. Mycroft had to stand to unlock it and she raised an eyebrow at the red-head. 'Sherlock, your mother's on the phone and wants to know if you're staying here for dinner?'

Sherlock looked at John, who said, 'I told my mum I was staying at the Manor, so either way I'm fine.'

'Thank you, Ms Lestrade,' Sherlock said to Maggie, 'that would be lovely.'

'I'll cook,' Greg announced and paused the game- John was winning anyway, the little bastard- and Maggie smiled at him before disappearing down the hallway.

'I want tacos!' Sherlock demanded.

Greg raised an eyebrow. 'I don't have tacos.'

Sherlock scowled and Mycroft said, 'How about chilli and rice, Sherlock? You like that.'

Sherlock grumbled under his breath but eventually nodded. 'I'll play with John while you cook,' he said and jumped on the bed. 'Now, Lestrade!' he added.

'Sherlock, behave!' Mycroft snapped. Greg just rolled his eyes and left the bedroom, Mycroft following him. 'I'm sorry about Sherlock,' Mycroft sighed.

'Mycroft, it's fine, honestly,' Greg said and nudged him. 'He's a brat, I already knew that.'

'I'll make it up to you,' Mycroft promised and let his eyes trail up and down Greg's body. 'I'll finish what we started in the living room earlier.'

Greg shivered and wet his lips, choosing not to answer. Mycroft was smiling smugly as they entered the kitchen and Maggie looked at them both.

'I'm cooking chilli, apparently,' Greg told her. 'We have mince, yeah?'

Maggie nodded. 'We have cans of chilli soup if you don't want to make the sauce yourself.'

'Nah, I'll make it,' Greg said and went to the freezer. 'The soup isn't spicy enough.' He pulled two trays of frozen mince from the freezer and shut the door. 'Hey, Mycroft, how spicy do you and the other two like your chilli?'

'I like it really spicy, Sherlock doesn't care, and I'll ask John,' Mycroft said.

While Mycroft did that Greg pulled out the other ingredients; fresh tomatoes, onion, chilli, capsicum, tomato paste, red kidney beans, and stock cubes. He'd add pepper, salt and other herbs as he saw fit while cooking.

It turned out they didn't have any white rice, only brown, and Greg preferred using white. Maggie opted to go to Tesco with a list of other things they needed during the week, and Greg was already chopping ingredients when Mycroft came back.

'John said he doesn't mind how hot it as, as long as he can enjoy it.'

'I don't make it too hot when I cook it for other people,' Greg told him. Mycroft grabbed another knife to start chopping the onion. 'Mum's just gone to Tesco to get rice and some other stuff.'

Mycroft nodded. 'What else do you need help with?'

'You can microwave the mince while I'm making the sauce,' Greg said. 'Put it on for two minutes, check it, and then put it on for another minute or so, or until it defrosts. The sauce only takes about five minutes and then I'll brown the mince and mix it together before I add everything else.'

Mycroft nodded and finished cutting the onion before sticking the mince in the microwave. He leaned against the counter as he watched Greg put a pan on the stove, quickly throwing in the vegetables he'd cut. He was a natural at cooking, but Mycroft knew he didn't love it enough to make a career out of it. At least he still got to enjoy Greg's delicious food.

When the mince was done, and the sauce had simmered, Greg pulled a large pot from under the sink and set it atop the stove. All the ingredients went in and Greg left it until he'd browned the mince, adding that when he was done. He directed Mycroft to stir while he poured the red kidney beans from the can and drained them. When they were added Greg put in salt, pepper, and a few other seasoning Mycroft couldn't name by appearance.

By the time Greg had stirred it all, making sure the mince was mixing properly, Maggie was back. Greg grabbed a large block of dark chocolate from one of the bags, broke off a square, and dropped that in too.

'Chocolate?' Mycroft questioned.

'Saw it on a cooking show once,' Greg shrugged as he filled a glass with water and started pouring it bit by bit into the pot while he stirred. 'It adds a different taste; makes it better. You can't taste the chocolate but it brings out the other flavours.'

Mycroft helped Maggie put the shopping away and went to check on Sherlock and John. Greg said the chilli would take about twenty minutes to cook, followed by leaving it to simmer for a further ten, so they had some time on their hands. The younger teenagers hadn't destroyed the room, but Sherlock was going through Greg's things and John had apparently given up on telling him to stop and was reading a _Doctor Who_ novel on the bed.

'Sherlock,' Mycroft groaned and tugged his brother out of the wardrobe.

'I want to know all Lestrade's secrets!' Sherlock announced and waved a textbook in Mycroft's face. 'Like this? Why does he have a biology textbook if he doesn't study it?'

'That's one of _mine_ , and it's from two years ago,' Mycroft said, plucking the book from Sherlock's hand.

Sherlock blinked. 'Oh.' His frown quickly returned. 'He could be hiding something!'

'So what if he is?' Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'Gregory's inclined to his secrets, Sherlock, just like we all are. How about you sit down and shut up for twenty minutes?'

'Twenty _minutes_?' Sherlock groaned. 'I can't keep still that long!'

'You have in the past.'

'That's when nothing interesting is happening,' Sherlock pointed out. 'I'm currently in the room you share with your boyfriend; _very_ interesting.'

'A DVD, then?' Mycroft asked. 'Please, Sherlock, Gregory's making dinner and Margaret was kind enough to let you stay. Don't do anything to annoy them.'

Sherlock scowled, but he didn't want to be banned from coming back. He missed Mycroft too much and soon his brother would be moving to attend university. So he bit his lip, nodded, and dragged John through the house and back into the sitting room.

'Do you have any James Bond movies?' John asked as he was forced onto the sofa, Sherlock snuggling up beside him. 'I haven't watched any in a while.'

'Greg's got a few of them,' Maggie, who was sitting in the armchair, said.

'I only like the new ones,' Sherlock said. 'It has more technology and better action.'

Maggie smiled as Mycroft put on _Casino Royale_ and then went back into the kitchen. Greg was stirring the pot of chilli again and adding more chilli powder.

'Everything okay out there?' Greg asked without turning.

'Fine,' Mycroft said. 'They're watching James Bond. How's dinner going?'

'Fine,' Greg echoed and smiled when Mycroft chuckled. 'I'll make the rice when it's simmering. You can pour it into a measuring cup while we're waiting.'

Mycroft nodded and did as asked, only spilling a bit of rice and earning a kiss from Greg for his actions. He felt a bit helpful, even if he was only chopping and pouring stuff, but it seemed to save Greg time and make him happy, so Mycroft was happy too.

Just under half-an-hour later- and with only a few shouts from Sherlock, who felt like pointing out the inaccuracies in the movie- Greg poured the rice into a small pot full of water, set that to boil, and turned the burner under the pot of chilli off to let it simmer. Mycroft was given the task of cutting up the pita bread Maggie had bought and setting the table. The bread went on a plate in the centre of the table, along with the butter and cutlery. Mycroft then set out bowls, the salt and pepper, and glasses.

When the rice was done Greg announced dinner was ready and the TV was switched off. Maggie entered with Sherlock and John behind her.

'Everyone grab a bowl and tell me how much rice you want, then we'll do the chilli,' Greg said.

They got in a line behind Sherlock, who was first, and ordered only a bit of rice- ordered, didn't ask, he made sure to tell Greg it was an order. Greg just chuckled and served him, followed by John (who was as polite as he always was), Maggie, and then Mycroft, who had two bowls.

'One for you, of course,' Mycroft said when Greg looked at him. Greg smiled. He then served everyone chilli and they all sat while Maggie pulled bottles of coke and lemonade from the fridge.

'This looks delicious, Greg,' Maggie said when they'd all settled down. 'I haven't had your chilli in ages.'

'I hope everyone likes it,' Greg said and immediately dug in.

Mycroft hummed after his first spoonful- Greg was an amazing cook!- and John too praised him after trying it. Sherlock scowled at his for a few seconds, never having been a big eater, but eventually he tried it.

'You made this?' he demanded as soon as he'd swallowed.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. 'Are you sure?'

'Pretty sure,' Greg laughed. 'Why? Don't you like it?'

'It's... great,' Sherlock admitted, looking annoyed by his own feelings. Greg smirked and Sherlock scowled at him. 'Shut up, Lestrade,' he grunted and reached for the pita bread.

'I love you too,' Greg replied, making Sherlock flip him off.

'Sherlock,' Mycroft hissed and nudged his brother under the table. 'Have you forgotten what manners are?'

'Lestrade's annoying me, you all saw it!' Sherlock pointed at the boy in question. Mycroft just continued to stare at him and eventually Sherlock mumbled an incomprehensible apology under his breath.

'So, Sherlock, John,' Maggie said after a few minutes of silence, 'I don't know a lot about you. What year are you in again?'

'We're in year nine,' John answered. 'Though I think Sherlock could have graduated secondary school already if he wanted to.'

'Which I didn't,' Sherlock mumbled through his mouthful of pita.

'So only four more years,' Maggie said, 'if you're both going on to sixth form.'

'We are,' John nodded. 'I want to be a doctor and Sherlock... uh...'

'Consulting Detective,' Sherlock said when John failed to name his future job.

Maggie raised her eyebrows. 'What's a Consulting Detective?' she asked.

'Someone who helps the police when they can't solve a case, which is always,' Sherlock told her. 'I'll work on a case-to-case basis.'

'So... like a private investigator?' Maggie asked.

'No,' Sherlock scowled. 'Private investigators are as stupid as the police. I'll use my deductive abilities to solve even the hardest case, because I'm smarter than everybody else.'

'Sherlock,' John sighed and shook his head. 'You can't just announce that you're smarter than everyone else- even if you are!' he added loudly when Sherlock went to interrupt.

Sherlock scowled at him but when back to spooning chilli and rice into his mouth. Apparently he really liked Greg's cooking.

'So... a doctor, John?' Maggie turned her attention back to the shorter boy.

John smiled and nodded at her. 'My grandfather was a doctor, and my uncle's a doctor in the army. I was thinking of joining the army after I finish medical school-'

'But I said he couldn't,' Sherlock interrupted.

John just chuckled. 'Right. Um, I want to go to St Bart's, in London. But I suppose I'll see how my classes go when I get older. I might not get the marks I need.'

'You will,' Sherlock told him. 'You're smart.'

John beamed under his praise and Greg and Mycroft snickered to each other. They really were adorable.

'We are not,' Sherlock grumbled from opposite Greg.

Greg just laughed.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


After dinner they dumped their used plates in the sink and Greg, Sherlock and John headed into the sitting room to finish watching _Casino Royale_ , while Mycroft and Maggie did the dishes. Sherlock had texted his mum and just as the credits were rolling, the doorbell rang and Greg opened it to find Meghan Holmes.

'Good evening, Gregory,' she said with a polite smile on her face.

Greg smiled in return. He still didn't like Meghan all that much, and the woman still had an air of superiority around her, but she'd accepted both her sons for who they were and was supporting Mycroft. That made her okay in Greg's book.

'Hi,' Greg said and stepped back to let Meghan in.

'Meghan,' Maggie smiled as she stood from the sofa. 'Did you want a cup of tea before you go?'

'No, that's fine, I have to get John home,' Meghan said. 'Thank you for having them.'

'They were great, it's not a problem,' Maggie said. 'They're welcome over whenever they want.'

John put his shoes on and Sherlock, still in the sitting room with Mycroft, turned to his brother. 'I had fun,' he mumbled softly.

Mycroft smiled. 'We'll go out and do something soon, just the two of us. And I still have to take you to the beach.'

'I don't care if it's cold, I just want to collect things,' Sherlock told him, while Mycroft nodded. He hugged the younger boy quickly, Sherlock squirming and huffing but wearing a smile. 'I'll see you later,' he said when they broke apart.

Mycroft nodded and walked his sibling to the door. He greeted his mother with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and soon Meghan, Sherlock and John were leaving.

It was only seven thirty but Greg and Mycroft made themselves bowls of ice-cream and headed to their bedroom, while Maggie made herself some tea and settled on the sofa with a book and the TV on in the background.

After eating their dessert Mycroft announced it was time for a shower, where he proceeded to “thank” Greg for cooking dinner and letting Sherlock and John over.

By the time they fell into bed, a movie on the TV, Greg was feeling quite content. Mycroft curled up in his arms and Greg kissed his forehead. Life was pretty good, Greg decided.


	76. I Wish I Was James Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** I Wish I Was James Bond by Scouting For Girls
> 
>  **Author's Note:** A big thank you to my new beta, **sofienolongerexists** , who'll be helping out! Also, sorry about the slow updating, but I'm still trying to get chapter 78 to do what I want. It's being a bitch and my muse has sided with it, the dirty bastard. Hopefully I get it finished soon.
> 
> Anywho, enjoy!
> 
> {Dreamer}

Friday marked the last day that St Mary's and Artemis Catholic School would be at Baker Street; which meant that Molly, Lily and Alex- all of whom had quickly become friends with the people in Greg's group- would be going back to their own school.

Lily spent most of the morning flapping around the school and hall moaning about how much everybody would miss her. Alex only ever looked up from whatever book she was reading that day to pull her best friend into line. Molly mostly sought Dimmock out and the two spent their time being all lovey-dovey and annoying everyone else.

Greg could understand, of course. School took up most of the hours of the days, and between homework and family-related things, Molly and Dimmock didn't get to spend a lot of time together. Greg was lucky; not only did he and Mycroft go to the same school, but they hung out with the same people _and_ lived together. Greg didn't know what he'd do if he didn't get to see Mycroft as much as he did. They practically spent every minute of every day together.

Lily had announced a few days prior that they were having a party at lunch and everyone who could had bought snacks and drinks. Mr Jambrook had let them keep most of it in the teacher's lounge and he'd only stolen four Kit Kats, much to Lily's annoyance- she loved Kit Kats.

Greg had a free period before lunch, as did BJ, so they carried most of the stuff outside to the picnic table they always used.

'Thanks for helping,' Greg said when they dumped their bags on the wooden table-top.

'No worries,' BJ said. 'They're my mates too.'

'What happened to Matt and that lot?' Greg asked.

BJ shrugged and sat down, watching as Greg started pulling food from the bags. 'We've never really been that good of friends,' the taller boy told him. 'It was more... 'cause we played football together we hung out, ya know?' Greg nodded. 'But with all the crap that happened with you and Mikey, and then with Saunders, I just stopped wanting to spend any time with 'em at all.'

'Yeah, well, people grow apart,' Greg said. He'd learned that the hard way, what with Dylan going all crazy over him and Mycroft. Greg remembered that Dylan had started hanging around Matt Sanders and Roy Kent, two of BJ's former friends. 'Dylan's a dick,' he stated.

BJ snorted. 'Don't have to tell me, Lestrade. He spent half his time mouthing off about you and Mikey. I reckon he's in love with you.'

Greg jerked where he stood, almost falling over the table, and scowled when BJ snickered. 'What?' he demanded.

'Nobody hates someone _that_ much without having some serious feelings,' BJ told him.

'You're telling me all homophobes are secretly gay?' he asked.

'No,' the football player shook his head, 'just a few of 'em, Saunders included. He reckons Mikey warped you or somethin'. I think he just wanted you for himself and got pissed off when you suddenly decided you _could_ date someone seriously.'

'Well _I_ reckon you're full of crap,' Greg grumbled. He _really_ didn't want to imagine Dylan in love with him. The very thought made him want to throw up.

BJ just shrugged and helped Greg lay out all the food. After that it was hard not to start gorging themselves; there was chocolate, lollies, dip, bottles of coke and lemonade, and even some cold pizza Molly had brought. Greg's mouth was watering and he was fidgeting in his seat when the bell finally went and the others starting turning up.

'Can I eat now?' Greg demanded when he spotted Lily, Alex, Molly and Dimmock from the corner of his eye.

'Wait 'til everyone else is here,' Lily said and clapped Greg over the back of the head.

'Ow, abuse! I call abuse!' Greg whined.

Lily just rolled her eyes. It was then that Greg took a proper look at her. Rather than wearing the green-and-white uniform of St Mary's, Lily was dressed in casual clothes; plaid trousers, a white button-up shirt, and a dark brown cardigan. Her hair had been tied back and her glasses swapped from her usual dark frames to a chunkier pair.

A quick look at Alex showed she was dressed similarly, though had her nose stuck in a book like usual. Molly was in jeans, a shirt, and one of Dimmock's hoodies, her hair falling in wavy lengths to her shoulders.

'Er... why are you dressed like that?' Greg asked.

'St Mary's and Artemis' students are allowed to wear normal clothes today, 'cause it's our last day here,' Lily informed him.

'Right,' Greg nodded. 'But, um... what's with the new look, Sunshine?'

'Dude, I'm Q!' Lily announced.

'Q?' Greg questioned.

'As in the Quartermaster from the new James Bond movie,' Mycroft answered as he suddenly appeared. 'Played by Ben Whishaw,' he added and kissed Greg quickly on the lips.

'Who's that?' Greg asked and looked at his partner.

Lily's mouth dropped open. 'Who... who's _that_? Greg, haven't you seen S _kyfall_?'

'Er... no, I never got around to it,' Greg shrugged. 'I thought I'd just get it when it comes out on DVD.'

'Oh no, no, _no_ ,' Lily groaned.

'That's terrible, Gregory, truly,' Mycroft tisked. 'Not only is it _James Bond_ , but the movie is amazing, and it has Daniel Craig and Ben Whishaw.'

'So?' Greg said. He felt like running when Mycroft and Lily both scowled at him.

'Have you seen them?' Lily demanded. Before Greg could answer she was forcing him to sit at the picnic table. He was then forced to watch the _Skyfall_ trailer, the scene where Q meets James Bond for the first time, as well as pictures and art and comments that all revolved around what Lily kept calling “00Q”.

Greg had a feeling he didn't want to know what that was, so just smiled, nodded, and agreed he'd buy the movie as soon as it came out on DVD. Lily didn't seem happy, but she eventually got up and shuffled to Alex's side, still scowling at Greg.

'Jesus,' he grumbled.

'Well honestly, Gregory, it's James Bond,' Mycroft tisked.

'Yeah, yeah, and you're in love with this Q bloke,' Greg muttered.

'He's gorgeous, Gregory.'

'I'm gorgeous,' the brunette pouted. Mycroft chuckled. 'I am!'

'I know you are,' Mycroft agreed. He leaned over and kissed Greg softly.

'Alright, I can admit that that Ben dude is cute,' Greg nodded. 'And Daniel Craig is all kinds of fuckable.'

' _That_ you'll admit,' Mycroft said with an eye roll.

Greg grinned. 'What can I say? Muscled, blonde, hmm...'

'All things I'm not,' Mycroft said, 'so shut your trap or I'll go on about Ben Whishaw.'

'No, I'm sorry, don't leave me!' Greg shouted, drawing everyone's attention. He wrapped his arms firmly around Mycroft's shoulders and squeezed tightly. 'Don't leave me, Mikey, I can't survive without you!'

'I hate you, Gregory,' Mycroft muttered as his boyfriend hugged him tightly.

'Aww, you _do_ care!' Greg grinned, planting a sloppy kiss against his cheek.

Mycroft sighed and gave Greg a fond smile.

'You know you do,' Greg smiled.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Soon everything had been opened and everyone was chatting and laughing as they ate. Lily was playing a selection of music from her smart-phone and Sally and BJ were in a heated argument over who was better, Manchester United or Chelsea F.C. Greg didn't really follow football, he was more a cricket guy, so he stayed clear of the conversation; football fans were crazy.

Instead he leaned heavily against Mycroft as he picked at the food available, listening vaguely to Mycroft's conversation with Alex about some Australian book called _Tomorrow, When The War Began_. Greg had found that Alex was the strong silent type except when she started talking about books or got involved in one of Lily's schemes. He was glad Mycroft had someone to talk literature with; Greg wasn't a big reader but Mycroft was, so it was nice that he had someone close to discuss books with.

BJ, Sally and Dimmock all had classes after lunch, and Mycroft had a debate that Lily, Alex and Molly had to attend, despite it being between Baker Street and St Artemis. Greg had PE followed by Sociology- it was one of those long days where his time-table decided to be a bastard and make him hang around school as long as possible.

Greg didn't really feel like going to class, despite Mycroft telling him they had to stop skiving, what with exams coming up and all. Regardless, once the bell had gone and they'd packed up their stuff and thrown away their rubbish, the leftover food distributed between those who wanted it, Greg decided to follow Mycroft to the theatre.

Just as everyone had stood with their bags, Lily raised her paper cup. 'I wanted to make a toast.' The others all stopped and gave her their attention. 'It's been an awesome two weeks, despite all the crap that happened,' she looked at Mycroft and Greg reached out to squeeze his boyfriend's hand, 'and I've really enjoyed myself. I got to hang out with my mates, and I got to meet some new people; so a toast to new friends and old.'

Only Sally and BJ still had cups so everyone else just smiled and nodded while the other three drank.

'We'll have to hang out more after school,' Joe said.

'We'll go to the movies regularly or something,' Dimmock added.

Everyone hugged or clapped each other on the shoulders and started heading off for class, Mycroft and Greg trailing behind Molly, Dimmock, Lily and Alex. When they reached the theatre Molly and Dimmock started saying goodbye to each other while Lily and Alex headed inside.

When Greg made no move to leave, Mycroft turned to him. 'Aren't you going to class?'

'Nope,' Greg grinned. 'I'm watching your debate.

'Gregory, you-'

'Have class,' Greg interrupted, 'blah, blah. I don't wanna go.'

Mycroft sighed. 'Gregory-'

'No, I know my crap,' Greg once again cut in, 'and one class isn't gonna hurt. I'll work extra hard on Monday and make sure I do all my homework during the holidays, okay?' Mycroft frowned. 'Come on, Myc,' Greg groaned. 'This is your last debate and I wanna see it. Dimmock can grab any PE homework we get.'

'Oh will I?' Dimmock demanded from behind him.

'Yeah you will,' Greg threw over his shoulder.

Dimmock huffed but didn't reply, so Greg took that as his best friend agreeing. He pouted at Mycroft, who finally gave up and tugged him into the theatre.

'Awesome,' Greg beamed as they walked into the building. He was made to sit up the back with Molly, Lily and Alex, and Mycroft told him not to shout or whistle when he took the stage. 'Can't promise anything,' Greg said.

Mycroft gave up for the second time in five minutes and kissed Greg on the cheek before walking to the front.

'How does he put up with you?' Lily asked from beside him.

'I'm adorable,' Greg winked.

Lily chuckled and Molly rolled her eyes, while Alex of course had a book in her lap. The four settled back as other students started entering the hall. Greg wondered if he should wolf-whistle or just shout Mycroft's name really loudly...

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


It didn't shock anybody when Baker Street Academy came away with more wins than the other two schools combined. St Mary's came overall second, with St Artemis Catholic School in third (or last) place. Greg clapped louder than anyone else, except maybe John Watson, who'd snuck in towards the end of Sherlock's debate. The look of delight on Sherlock Holmes' face was seen by everyone.

When Mycroft was finally done shaking hands and talking with the teachers, Greg grabbed his arm and dragged him away.

'I haven't said goodbye to Molly, Lily, or Alexandria,' Mycroft said.

'Don't care,' Greg told him.

'Are we going somewhere?' Mycroft asked, amusement clear in his tone.

'Home so I can fuck you,' Greg stated firmly.

'How wonderful,' Mycroft commented and let Greg drag him out of the theatre and towards the car-park.

'What, not gonna go on about how I need to go to class?' Greg asked.

'No, I'm horny now,' Mycroft said, squeezing Greg's hand.

Greg chuckled.

They didn't speak again, both climbing into Mycroft's car and heading straight home. Luck seemed to be on their side; they barely got any red lights, and soon enough Mycroft was pulling into their driveway.

Greg said a silent “thank fuck” when he saw that Maggie wasn't home from work yet. Hopefully she wouldn't be home until _after_ Greg was supposed to finish class; Maggie knew his timetable better than he did.

Mycroft didn't hesitate once they were inside. He pushed Greg against the wall just after Greg had shut the front door and sealed their lips together, drawing a breathy moan from Greg's mouth. They kissed wetly, both suddenly too horny to care about dragging this out.

Greg managed to push Mycroft far enough away to grab his blazer and tug him towards the bedroom. They stumbled down the hallway together, bumping into the walls and breaking apart to wince in pain. The couple reached their bedroom with only minimal bruising and Mycroft slammed the door shut.

Their bags were thrown across the room, Greg's hitting a stack of books beside the desk and sending them tumbling across the floorboards. Their shoes followed, Greg fearing Mycroft had put a hole in the wall when one of his leather shoes went flying behind the TV.

He really wasn't in the mood to say anything, though, and instead fixed his mouth to Mycroft's neck, biting, licking, and sucking as he tore at Mycroft's belt and fly.

'Fuck,' Mycroft cursed in his ear, breathing already laboured. Greg grinned and Mycroft said, 'Shut up and get on with it.'

'Didn't say anything,' Greg mumbled and sucked harder before adding a nip.

Mycroft growled and grabbed Greg's hips. He propelled the shorter boy back until Greg hit the bed, the air in his lungs rushing out with an _oof_. Mycroft stood before him, long, nimble fingers quickly pulling off his tie and blazer. Greg did the same with his own uniform and soon Mycroft was crawling up the bed naked, the sight making Greg's dick twitch and harden even further.

'Not taking our time, then?' Greg asked.

'No,' Mycroft answered shortly and crushed their lips together. The two moaned and rutted against each other before Greg managed to roll them so that he was settled between Mycroft's legs, the red-head lying on his back. He sucked Greg's tongue into his mouth and only drew back far enough to say, 'Lube,' before kissing Greg again.

Greg propped himself up on one hand, the other struggling to find the bedside table. He knocked more than one thing over in his search for lube- though thankfully the lamp made it through unscathed- and eventually tugged the top drawer open and drew the small bottle out.

'We should find somewhere that sells bigger bottles,' Greg mumbled against Mycroft's lips as he shuffled onto his knees. 'We use enough of it.'

'Just get your fingers in me!' Mycroft exclaimed in response.

Greg smirked and quickly popped the cap, pouring a generous amount of gel onto his palm. He tossed the bottle aside and warmed the liquid between his fingers, spreading it thoroughly, before using one hand and a knee to nudge Mycroft's legs apart.

Mycroft hooked his hands under his inner-knees and held himself wide open. Greg moaned loudly at the sight. 'Shit, you're hot,' he said. He trailed his wet fingers up Mycroft's inner-thigh, the genius shivering at the touch. 'Just... fuck, look at you,' Greg continued, eyes slowly rolling over Mycroft's flushed body. 'I can't believe I get to see you like this.'

'Gregory...' Mycroft moaned. He thrust his head back against the pillows as Greg's fingers ghosted closer and closer to his hole. 'Just... fuck, do something!'

Without any warning Greg slid his index finger into Mycroft's hole. The muscles fluttered around his digit but quickly relaxed, and Greg was able to easily slide in up to the second knuckle. He pumped his finger a few times, slowly stretching Mycroft, until he could easily add a second, then a third finger. When he had four buried in Mycroft's tight heat the younger boy started swearing again and ordering Greg to fuck him.

Greg smirked but continued teasing, enjoying the way Mycroft rocked back and forth, fucking himself on his boyfriend's fingers. Greg could easily come like this and used his free hand to fist himself. He stroked in time with Mycroft's thrusts, savouring the whimpers falling from the other boy's swollen lips.

Finally Mycroft couldn't take it any more and he sat up, Greg's fingers falling out of him with a slick slide. Before Greg could blink he found himself manhandled onto his back, Mycroft straddling his lap.

'I want to ride you,' Mycroft announced. Greg groaned and grabbed Mycroft's hips as the red-head positioned himself. Mycroft grabbed the lube from the bedside table and poured a large dollop onto his hand before reaching back for Greg's cock.

Greg hissed as the cool liquid was spread up and down his throbbing shaft. Unlike Greg, Mycroft didn't drag it out, and after tossing the bottle back on the table beside them, he reached back and lifted his hips to line Greg's dick up with his hole.

He sank down slowly, his muscles slowly adjusting to the extra girth. He bounced as he moved, each downward thrust getting Greg deeper and deeper. When his boyfriend finally bottomed out they both moaned and Mycroft rocked himself back and forth, his muscles squeezing tightly around Greg's shaft.

'Move,' Greg ordered and dug his fingers into Mycroft's hips for effect.

Mycroft just smirked and continued rocking.

'Mycroft,' Greg groaned, 'please!'

'Please?' Mycroft echoed and grabbed the headboard. 'Well, since you asked so nicely...' He pulled himself up until only the head of Greg's cock was inside him before dropping back down. His pace slowly picked up until he was riding Greg hard, his muscles just getting tighter and tighter around Greg.

The brunette moaned and tried thrusting up, even moving his legs until both feet were planted on the bed. Though it helped force him deep into Mycroft on every thrust, the red-head was definitely in control. His head was lolling back and forth, sinful groans and uttered curses escaping from his plump lips.

Greg swore harshly as he watched. Mycroft was flushed pink, his freckles standing out brightly against his skin. Mycroft's dick was slapping against his stomach with each movement, pre-come dribbling down his skin, and sweat was beginning to bead on his face and chest, making his hair stick to his forehead.

Suddenly Mycroft shifted ever so slightly and gasped. He slammed himself down, clenching tightly around Greg and making the older boy swear harshly. Mycroft began riding Greg harder and harder, Greg's name falling from his mouth amongst curses and grunts. The bed was now rocking with their movements, the headboard hitting the wall with dull thuds as Mycroft and Greg both moved faster and faster.

'Fuck,' Mycroft grunted, his voice hoarse. 'Fuck, Greg!'

Greg shifted beneath him, trying to slam in harder. Every thrust was hitting Mycroft's prostate and when one hand came off the headboard to wrap around his cock, Greg knew he was close. Greg dug his fingers harder into Mycroft's hips, leaving crescent-shaped indents in the blue-eyed teen's skin.

'Come on, Mycroft,' Greg panted as he lifted his hips off the bed, driving harder into his boyfriend. 'Want you to come first.'

Mycroft moaned in response and his fist sped up, fingers squeezing his cock hard as he jerked himself off. Greg felt Mycroft's channel tighten around him before suddenly becoming like a vice, and then Mycroft came all over Greg's chest, thick ropes of white splattering against the brunette.

The fluttering of Mycroft around him sent Greg over the edge and he jammed himself in as far as he could go, feeling his cock throb and Mycroft's muscles squeeze every last drop of orgasm from him. Mycroft was still moving, short jerks of his hips making Greg's dick hit his prostate to prolong his own climax. When he finally stopped moving he flopped forward heavily, knocking the breath out of Greg and making him wince.

'S-Sorry,' Mycroft panted.

'S'not a problem,' Greg mumbled breathlessly.

They stayed like that for about a minute before Mycroft moved. Greg groaned as he slipped out of his boyfriend, Mycroft falling to rest in a sweaty heap beside him. After a few minutes of panting Mycroft sat up and grabbed the tissue box, quickly pulling out a few to clean them both up. Greg managed to roll over and help Mycroft clean himself and when they were done Mycroft dropped the used tissues on the bedside table.

Mycroft sighed and moved to snuggle into Greg's side. He always wanted to cuddle after sex, and Greg had found that he liked it too, so he wrapped an arm loosely around Mycroft's shoulders and kissed the top of his sweaty head.


	77. Bad Enough For You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Bad Enough For You by All Time Low

Greg was running his fingers through Mycroft's hair, Mycroft drawing random patterns on Greg's stomach, when the shorter boy suddenly commented, 'I knew I was good.'

'Hmm?' Mycroft hummed against his chest.

'I fucked you so good you can't even talk,' Greg giggled.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and slapped Greg's hip. 'You did not.'

'Sure, sure.'

'Gregory-'

Greg cut him off with a kiss, Mycroft chuckling against the older boy's lips. They exchanged soft, warm kisses as their bodies continued to calm down and cool.

'Cold,' Mycroft murmured when they broke apart. Greg sat up and the two wiggled around until Greg could tug the duvet up and over them.

They'd just settled down again when the bedroom door burst open, revealing Maggie in her lavender-coloured scrubs, a stack of towels in her arms. She blinked rapidly as Greg and Mycroft both tugged the blanket further up, covering their chests.

'Oh God,' Maggie groaned, rubbing her eyes. 'Gregory Johnathan!'

'Mum, we-' Greg tried but his mother cut in.

'What the _hell_ are you two doing home?' Maggie demanded angrily and dumped the towels atop Greg's hamper. 'Honestly, you two _live_ together, you share a bloody bed! You couldn't wait until after school to have sex?'

'Mum, we just... um... free period?' Greg tried. Well, it was true for Mycroft, so really it was only partly a lie...

Maggie sighed and rubbed her eyes again before looking back up. Her eyes flicked from her scared-looking son, to a blushing Mycroft, and finally to the bedside table where a bottle of lube sat on its side. Her eyes narrowed dangerously and Greg gulped. He knew that look; he was in _serious_ trouble.

'Gregory...' Maggie said slowly, taking another step into the room, 'I see lubricant.'

'Um...' Greg murmured.

'What I _don't_ see,' Maggie continued, 'is a box of condoms or a wrapper.' Her dark brown eyes turned to Greg.

'Um... we... that is...' Greg stuttered.

'Gregory!' Maggie shouted.

'We don't use condoms,' Greg blurted.

Mycroft turned an even deeper shade of red and stared at the blanket as Maggie's eyes narrowed further.

'Gregory Johnathan Lestrade, of all the _stupid_ goddamn things you could do!' Maggie snarled. 'What the hell have I told you about safe sex?'

'We're both clean,' Greg tried. 'Honest, Mum, we-'

'I don't care what you've told each other, and I don't care that you're dating!' Maggie shouted. 'You _never_ forget a condom unless you know without a doubt that you and your partner are clean!'

'We-'

'I mean, _honestly_ ,' Maggie continued to rant over her son. 'Of all the stupid, idiotic, _dumb-arse_ things to do, Gregory!'

'Mum!' Greg shouted, finally making the woman pause. 'We both get tested every month and we actually did talk before we had sex without condoms!'

Okay, so that was a tiny white lie; they _had_ talked... Greg remembered Mycroft saying, " _I think we're beyond that_ " when Greg had brought condoms up their first time. And... that had been that.

But Maggie _so_ didn't need to know that. Best to lie and pretend they'd had a long, lengthy discussion like proper adults.

'I know you're only looking out for me and Mycroft,' Greg continued as his boyfriend tried to hide behind him, 'but we decided this together.'

Maggie scowled at him, lips pursed. 'Fine!' she finally snapped.

Greg blinked. 'Er... fine?' he asked hesitantly.

'You're adults,' Maggie nodded, 'you decided this together... it's really none of my business.'

'Um...' Greg really didn't know what to say. This felt like a trap.

'From now on,' Maggie said coolly, 'you do your own laundry. If you want to mess up the sheets with-'

'Mum!' Greg interrupted before she could say anything along the lines of _come_ , _sperm_ , or _semen_. There were just some things you really didn't need to hear a parent say.

Maggie rolled her eyes and said, 'If you want to... practice unsafe sex, then I can't stop you.' She scowled at them. 'But you're grounded.'

'What?' Greg gaped. 'We didn't do anything wrong!'

'Correct me if I'm wrong, Gregory,' Maggie said, 'but it's two o'clock, on a Friday, and you should be in Sociology.'

Greg winced. Yeah... he _should_ be in school.

'So you're grounded for the entire week,' Maggie continued. 'Mycroft,' she said and the genius flinched, 'I have no control over you, so...' She ended up sighing, rubbing her eyes, and leaving the room, slamming the door shut behind her and muttering about dumb-arse teenagers.

Silence hung heavily in the air before Greg cleared his throat and said, 'Well... that went well.'

Mycroft scowled at him.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Phil Rider- or Doctor Phil, Christ, even his son was calling him that- pulled up behind Mycroft's Jaguar and turned the engine off. He quickly sniffed his jacket, making sure his cologne wasn't too strong, and checked his face and teeth in the rear-view mirror. Satisfied he didn't look like a dork, he climbed out of the car, locked it, and headed up the driveway.

He didn't know why he was still nervous. He and Maggie had known each other for a while now and had been dating a few weeks. She clearly liked him, so he had nothing to worry about, right? Except screwing up, of course... or making Greg hate him. Phil had never dated anyone with a kid before and though he knew how to treat his own son, the same didn't apply to Gregory Lestrade, who was very different to Shawn.

Phil shook his head when he realised he'd been standing before Maggie's front door for at least a full minute, imagining all the ways he could occidentally make Greg Lestrade hate him. He was a grown man, damn it!

Clearing his throat, Phil smoothed down his shirt and jacket before knocking on the door. He only had to wait a minute before it was pulled open by an obviously sulking Greg- Shawn used that look all the time when he didn't get his way with his girlfriend.

'Hey, Phil,' Greg murmured before stepping aside.

'Good evening, Greg,' the doctor responded as the teenager shut the door.

'Mum's almost ready,' Greg said and headed back into the sitting room, Phil following. Mycroft was sitting on the sofa under a blanket and Greg joined him, the couple curling up together. 'She said to wait for her and make some coffee or somethin' if you want.'

'Alright,' Phil nodded. He perched himself on one of the arm chairs and glanced at the TV. The teenagers were watching a show Phil wasn't familiar with, but it looked entertaining; a heap of people in a police station, one flailing about and another trying to shout at him.

Five minutes after Phil arrived Maggie stepped out of the hallway. She was wearing a slim-fitting, sky-blue dress that hugged her curvy hips and ended just above her knees. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, strands framing her chocolate brown eyes.

Phil smiled widely and stood to greet her, the two exchanging hellos and a chaste kiss. When Maggie turned away from her partner she scowled at the young couple sitting quietly on the sofa.

'Remember what I said,' she said sternly. 'In bed by midnight; no parties, no people over, and-'

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg interrupted. 'No acting like insane, idiotic young people who don't know anything.'

'Gregory,' Maggie said warningly.

'What?' Greg muttered and glanced at his mum. 'I'm just repeating what you said to us.'

Maggie's eyes narrowed and Greg hastily looked back at the TV. Mycroft hadn't looked up at all, seemingly content to hide on the sofa and stare at the television.

Phil could feel the tension in the air and cleared his throat. 'So... what's going on?' he asked.

'Well,' Maggie said and Greg's eyes snapped to her, mouth slowly falling open, 'Greg and Mycroft seem to think it's okay to skip school to have sex.'

' _MUM!_ ' Greg shouted.

'What?' Maggie said. 'I'm just repeating what you said to me earlier.' Greg scowled and Phil glanced between them. Maggie turned back to Phil. 'Apparently when teenagers are in a committed relationship they don't have to use condoms.'

'Jesus Christ!' Greg groaned and let his head fall back. Mycroft was now blushing brightly. 'Why don't you just make up bloody signs and hang them all over Brighton?'

'Maybe I will,' Maggie snarked.

'Good,' Greg grunted, 'then everyone will know I'm getting some.'

'Gregory!'

'I'm agreeing with you!'

'Okay,' Phil interrupted, holding his hands up. 'How about we all calm down and stop talking about Greg and Mycroft's sex life?' he suggested. 'Because I now know _way_ more than I ever wanted to.'

Greg scowled and folded his arms, slouching on the sofa and glaring at the TV. Mycroft refused to even speak.

'I really don't understand teenagers these days,' Maggie sighed and shook her head.

'For your information,' Greg growled without looking at either adult, 'Mycroft and I haven't slept with anyone else since we first kissed in September.'

Maggie blinked. 'Really?'

'Yup,' Greg said, making the "P" pop. 'So _there_.'

Maggie paused as she looked at her son and Mycroft. 'I didn't know you'd been together that long,' she admitted.

'Well if you'd just _asked_ ,' Greg murmured.

'Gregory,' Mycroft finally spoke up. 'Let's just drop the subject, okay?'

Greg pouted and sank further down the sofa.

Phil smiled weakly at the group and cleared his throat. 'So, Maggie, are you ready to go?'

Maggie nodded and grabbed her purse from the table near the door. 'You boys behave,' she warned one last time.

'Yes, Mum,' Greg murmured while Mycroft nodded quickly.

'I'll be staying at Phil's tonight, but I should be back around nine or ten tomorrow morning before my shift at the hospital,' Maggie continued. She reached over and ruffled Greg's hair and pressed a kiss to Mycroft's cheek before heading out. Phil waved to the two boys, who nodded in return, and shut the door behind Maggie as they left.

The couple sat in silence for a few minutes before Greg groaned and flopped himself half across the sofa, half across his boyfriend's lap. 'I'm bored,' he complained.

'Watch TV,' Mycroft said.

'Nothin' on.'

'DVD?'

'Watched them all.'

'Book?'

'Haha, you're funny.'

Mycroft hummed. 'We could have sex,' he suggested.

'Mm, I'm usually all for it,' Greg nodded, 'but Mum catching us put me off a bit.'

Mycroft laughed and said, 'Who'd have thought it? Gregory Lestrade, put off sex.'

'Only for a little while,' Greg promised. 'Soon enough my dick will need attention and you're the one he wants.'

'Aren't I lucky?'

Greg laughed.

After a pause Mycroft suggested, 'We should go out.'

'Where?' Greg asked. 'Movies? McDonalds? Hang out at Tesco like all the cool kids?'

Mycroft snorted.

'Wait, I used to do that,' Greg frowned. 'Damn it, I just made fun of myself.'

Mycroft laughed outright at that and Greg slapped his stomach.

'Or we could go to one of those pubs down near Kings Road,' Greg said, trying to change the subject. 'A few of them let you in without checking your ID, and as long as you don't order anything at the bar they're pretty cool.'

Mycroft tilted his head as he thought, before finally saying, 'We could go to my club.'

Greg raised his eyebrows, turning to his boyfriend. 'You mean the one we went to and _The Living End_ played?'

'We can have a few drinks and unwind; I need it after this week.'

'Hmm... you _do_ remember that I'm grounded, right?' Greg asked with a smile.

Mycroft smirked. 'Since when has that stopped you?'

Greg laughed before getting an idea. 'Hey, we should invite the others!'

'The others?'

'Dimmock, Molly, BJ, Joe, you know... everyone,' Greg said and checked his watch. 'It's only six-thirty, it takes... what, forty minutes or something to get there? If everyone has a designated driver we can go, no problem.'

'I don't care,' Mycroft shrugged. 'Give Dimmock and Joe a call, I'll phone BJ and Anthea. Sally might want to come too.'

Greg nodded and jumped to get his mobile from his bedroom, while Mycroft slid his BlackBerry from his pocket. He called BJ first and found that the other teen had already been heading to Matt Sanders' usual Friday night party, but a night out a proper club with discounted drinks sounded heaps better. Mycroft agreed to call Anthea and Sally to see if they could carpool and was just getting off the phone with Sally when Greg walked back in.

'Dimmock's all for it,' he said, 'and Molly, Lily and Alex are coming too. Molly doesn't drink so she can drive them all. Dimmock just wants the name of the club so he can look up directions on Google maps.'

'It's called _The Mean Fiddler_ and should be listed,' Mycroft said. 'What about Joe?'

'Haven't called him yet,' Greg said as he texted Dimmock.

'I will. BJ said he wants to drink and he won't go if he has to drive.'

Greg nodded, still texting, and Mycroft was about to call Joe when his BlackBerry chimed with a new message from Sally;

  
  


_I called Joe, figured I'd see if he wants to go. He's bringing his girlfriend- they were trying to figure out how to spend the night- and she said she'd drive. So me and Anthea will go with him. Is BJ coming?_

  
  


'Joe's bringing his girlfriend,' Mycroft told Greg as he stood and quickly typed a new message to BJ.

'Since when does Joe have a girlfriend?' Greg asked.

Mycroft shrugged. 'No idea, that's just what Sally said.'

'He's been holding out,' Greg pouted. 'And here I thought we were friends.'

'In his defence,' Mycroft smiled, 'you didn't tell him that _we_ were together for months. And in the end he caught us snogging, you didn't actually tell him.'

'Hmm... guess I can forgive him, then,' Greg said.

Mycroft just chuckled.

When BJ agreed to go with Joe and the others, everything was set, and they all agreed to meet out the front of _The Fiddler_ to wait for Mycroft so he could get them in. 'We're meeting at eight.'

'You jump in the shower first,' Greg said and headed for his bedroom, 'I'll pick out what I'm going to wear.'

Mycroft chuckled as he followed. 'And you say _I'm_ picky when it comes to what I'm going to wear.'

'Hey, you can throw anything on and look great,' Greg complained. 'My level of awesomeness takes time.'

Mycroft just rolled his eyes and grabbed a towel from atop the hamper before heading for the bathroom, leaving Greg standing before their wardrobe trying to decide what to wear.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mycroft was dressed ten minutes after he got out of the shower. He'd pulled on his dark leather trousers- Greg was having a hard time keeping his eyes on anything but Mycroft's arse- with a black belt, and a black _My Chemical Romance_ shirt.

He disappeared to the bathroom to put his make-up on- eye liner and dark blue eye shadow- while Greg stood before their shared wardrobe trying to decide between black or red jeans.

'I can wear the black dress shirt with either,' he mused to himself. 'But if I wear the red ones I can go with some red bracelets...' He spotted something hanging behind Mycroft's jeans and frowned. 'What the...?' They were braces; honest-to-God _braces_ , like the ones Captain Jack wore in _Torchwood_. Mycroft had a whole heap of them in a multitude of colours, including ones with skulls and stripes and spots. Greg grinned when he spotted red ones. 'Oh, _so_ awesome.' He wondered just when braces had become awesome again before tugging out his red jeans.

It took him a few minutes to figure out how the braces worked but when he did he clipped them on. He decided to let them hang from his waist rather than pull them over his shoulders when he got dressed; that was cooler, anyway.

'Awesome,' he grinned again and turned back to his wardrobe. 'Now I need a shirt...'

He was choosing between a slightly baggy black shirt with rips and a shirt with a bow-tie and waistcoat printed on the front when Mycroft's BlackBerry rang.

It vibrated across the bedside table closest to Greg and Greg grabbed it. The caller ID read “Anthea Lander” and Greg quickly answered.

'Mycroft Holmes' phone, this is Gregory Lestrade speaking.'

' _Greg, hello_ ,' Anthea said, not sounding surprised. ' _Can you quickly get Mycroft for me? It's urgent._ '

'Can do,' Greg replied and pulled the phone away. He pressed it to his chest and called, 'Mycroft, Anthea's on your phone!'

Mycroft appeared a few seconds later and grabbed it, while Greg turned back to his t-shirt dilemma.

'Hello?' Mycroft was silent only a few seconds before saying, 'What? Say that again!' Greg glanced over to see a scowl spreading across Mycroft's face. 'No, I don't want to wait,' Mycroft said. 'Can you pick me up? You can head to the club and I'll ride it back to Gregory's... no, I'd rather not leave my car there... Gregory's getting dressed...' Mycroft sighed and rubbed his eyes- he hadn't put any make-up on yet. 'Thanks, Anthea,' the red-head said before hanging up.

'What's up?' Greg asked.

'Apparently Siger found my Harley in the garage and he's going to sell it,' Mycroft growled.

Greg's mouth dropped open. He'd completely forgotten about Mycroft's bike. 'He can't do that!'

'I won't let him,' Mycroft scowled. 'Anthea's coming over to pick me up. She'll drop me at the Manor before heading to _The Fiddler_ and I'll ride my bike back.'

'You want me to come?' Greg asked.

Mycroft shook his head. 'No, you get ready, I'll only be half-an-hour, an hour at the most.' He kissed Greg quickly before tugging his blue velvet jacket on, grabbing his wallet, and heading out to wait for Anthea.

'What a bastard,' Greg muttered, scowling at the thought of Siger Holmes. He shook his head and grabbed a towel before heading into the bathroom.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg was just pulled on his skinny red jeans- plus _awesome_ braces- when he heard the roar of a motorcycle. He quickly grabbed his ripped black shirt and tugged it on before racing through the house and out the front door.

He whistled when Mycroft pulled into the driveway.

The '84 Softail was a thing of beauty and Greg was standing beside the bike and his boyfriend before he realised he'd moved. The bike was in perfect condition, not a scratch on the fuel tank or the wheel arches, and the leather seats were beautiful. The wheel arches and handlebars had been polished to perfection and gleamed red and silver in the soft lighting coming from the street lights.

'Damn, Mycroft,' Greg hummed appreciatively as he reached out to touch the cold steel beside Mycroft's hand. 'This... shit, you have great taste.'

Mycroft chuckled as he pulled his helmet off. It was completely black and one of those helmets Greg associated with bike gangs; it was an open face helmet, meaning it covered everything but his face, whereas Greg's was full face and had a plastic face guard. It fit the Harley, though, where Greg's helmet didn't.

'What's its top speed?' Greg asked as he continued to admire the machine.

'170 km/h,' Mycroft answered. 'I haven't managed to take it out properly, though, seeing as how it's illegal for me to be riding a bike this powerful.'

'Yeah...' Greg mumbled and rounded the bike, taking in every detail he could find.

Mycroft smiled. 'Want to have a go?'

'Fuck yes,' Greg grinned but followed with a head shake. 'But I've never ridden anything this powerful so I'd better not. I'd crash or something.'

'I'm sure you wouldn't.'

'I'm good, Mycroft,' Greg said.

'I was thinking of riding this to the club,' Mycroft said and patted the fuel tank. 'It just means I can't drink a lot, and hopefully I don't get pulled over.'

'You'd just get fined, right?' Greg asked.

'And maybe lose my bike licence,' Mycroft shrugged. 'But I think it's worth it. I'm not waiting until October to legally be allowed to ride it properly.'

'You little rebel you,' Greg smirked and Mycroft snorted. 'But hey, it's cool with me,' Greg continued. 'I'll grab my helmet and we can go?'

Mycroft nodded and sat astride the Harley as he waited for Greg to grab his stuff and lock up. When he came back out he had a leather jacket on, his helmet hanging from his wrist, and a grin a mile wide stretched across his face.

'Are you wearing my braces?' Mycroft asked.

'Um...' Greg hesitated. 'No?'

Mycroft chuckled.

'You have _no_ idea how fucking excited I am,' Greg changed the subject as he got on behind Mycroft, scooting close.

'I feared Siger would find it and either sell it or destroy it,' Mycroft admitted.

'Well screw him, he didn't get to it,' Greg said.

Mycroft smiled and said, 'Put your helmet on,' before he started the Harley. Greg did as asked and grinned as the bike roared to life, vibrating between his legs. He wrapped his arms firmly around Mycroft's waist and squeezed as the red-head started backing the bike out of the driveway. Once he was on the road he revved the engine, made sure Greg was hanging on, and then sped off down the street.


	78. West End Riot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** West End Riot by The Living End
> 
> **Author's Note:** I know that it's illegal to smoke in all public buildings. I've based Mycroft's club off of two separate places I've been to, and one had an indoor smoking room.
> 
> Enjoy,
> 
> {Dreamer}

Riding the Harley was nothing like riding Greg's own bike. For one he was on the back, and it was a different experience. Greg was able to enjoy the ride and look around without having to focus on steering or being mindful of other vehicles. There was also the warm heat of Mycroft's body against his own, which Greg absolutely loved. Every time they stopped at a red light Greg tightened his hold and squeezed, Mycroft's body tensing against his in response.

But the biggest difference, of course, was the power. Greg's bike had _nothing_ on the Harley. It was bigger than Greg's bike for one, and the engine was so very loud. It didn't take long for Mycroft to open the throttle and have them speeding down dark, almost empty roads, getting faster and faster until he had to slow down approaching a crossroads.

Mycroft seemed to be taking the back way or some scenic route he was familiar with, because it took longer to ride there than it would have to drive. Greg didn't care, though; he was having the time of his life. He'd never understand how people couldn't love bikes; the power, the speed, the wind in your clothes, the bike vibrating beneath you when you stopped. Greg loved it all.

And of course, he loved being pressed tight against his boyfriend's back.

When they finally reached the club a few heads turned as they passed, but Mycroft paid them no attention as he turned down a side-street and rode up to the large iron gate that led to the back of the club and the staff parking.

Unlike the first time there was no one waiting, so Mycroft stopped beside a small metal box and hunted through his jacket for his wallet. Eventually he pulled out a simple plastic card and pressed it to a screen in the box. There was a beep before the gate opened and Mycroft gently drove the Harley inside.

He parked in his reserved spot and turned the bike off. The two sat in silence for about a minute before Greg tugged his helmet off. 'That was brilliant!' he announced.

Mycroft chuckled and tugged his own helmet off. 'I'm glad you enjoyed yourself,' he said, 'now get off.'

Greg did as asked and Mycroft climbed off after him. They both groaned and grunted as they stretched their legs before Mycroft led the way up the back steps. The back door opened before they could reach it and the manager of the club- Daniel, Greg vaguely thought- poked his head out.

'Boss, this is a surprise,' Daniel commented and held his hand out.

Mycroft shook it. 'A last minute decision,' he explained.

Greg's phone beeped as they headed inside and he pulled it out. 'It's Dimmock,' he told Mycroft, reading the text. 'Everyone's outside.'

Mycroft turned to Daniel. 'Go outside and tell whoever's working the door to let Michael Dimmock and his party in; they're friends of mine, so no ID is needed.'

'How many?' Daniel asked.

Mycroft looked at Greg, who decided to text Dimmock and ask. By the time the other boy responded they'd reached Mycroft's office. The couple dropped their helmets off before heading back downstairs towards the main floor.

'Seven,' Greg said.

'Michael Dimmock?' Daniel repeated just to check and when Mycroft nodded he tilted his head in response and disappeared to let them in.

'I fancy a drink,' Greg announced as he grabbed the door Daniel had just disappeared through.

'Mm, me too,' Mycroft replied. 'I'll have to watch how much I drink, though, so I can ride home.'

'I'll keep an eye on you,' Greg grinned and ran his eyes up and down Mycroft's body.

Mycroft chuckled and tugged Greg in for a kiss. 'Incorrigible,' he breathed against the shorter boy's lips.

'You love it,' was Greg's response.

Mycroft just smiled, kissed him again, and pushed through the door.

Greg's ears were assaulted by loud music as soon as they stepped into the main room. The song was _Brain Stew_ by Green Day and Greg would forever be thankful that his boyfriend had good taste in music. It wasn't that Greg thought pop music or techno was bad or anything, he just... _really_ hated it. So he was fucking happy that Mycroft's club played punk.

There were bodies all over the main dance floor, as well as people crammed into the booths lining the walls and the tables grouped at the back. The lines at the bar were long, of course, and a steady stream of people were entering and exiting the bathrooms and entrance. Greg also noticed a door he hadn't on his first visit and when it opened he spotted a small room filled with smoke and people with cigarettes.

'Awesome, a smoke room,' Greg commented.

Mycroft turned to him and raised an eyebrow, clearly not having heard him over the thrum of the music, so Greg just shook his head and pressed his hand against the red-head's arse to keep him moving. They headed over to the bar and Mycroft sidled up one side and caught one of the bartenders' attention. The woman, probably early twenties Greg would guess, with bleached blonde hair and a bit too much make up darted around her co-workers and approached them.

'J.D. and Coke,' Greg said when Mycroft glanced at him, and the taller boy ordered for them.

After their drinks were made Mycroft leaned over the bar and the woman tilted her head closer.

'Anyone who comes to the bar and uses my name gets discounted drinks, okay?' Mycroft said and she nodded. 'And no ID check,' Mycroft added. Again she nodded and, satisfied, Mycroft grabbed his and Greg's drinks and turned around.

Greg took his glass from Mycroft and took a sip, sighing when the soda and alcohol mix slid down his throat. It had been too long since he'd had a proper night out and he was looking forward to it. It'd be better if he could get drunk, but he didn't fancy trying to hold onto Mycroft on the back of the Harley completely wasted. He could let himself get tipsy, though, so he took another gulp of his drink as he and Mycroft walked through the crowd.

Greg spotted Lily and Alex first, the two standing by a booth and eyeing the three teenage girls sitting there. It was clear they were ready to head out and no doubt Lily and Alex were planning on snagging the booth.

'I see Joe and BJ,' Mycroft said loudly into Greg's ear.

'Go grab 'em, I've spotted Lily and Alex,' Greg replied. 'I'll see if we can get a booth.'

Mycroft nodded and slipped through the crowd, while Greg continued forward. When he got closer the girls at the booth finally stood and Lily and Alex jumped onto the seats.

Lily had on tight purple jeans, a rumpled band shirt that said _Bowling For Soup_ across it, and her hair was done if up with ribbons. Her face was make-up free and the lights made her freckles stand out beneath her black-framed glasses. She wore simple black boots on her feet and kept bouncing in her seat to the music.

Alex was wearing a white and black striped dress shirt over a simple black cotton t-shirt, with a white tie hanging around her neck. She had a black skirt on that stopped mid-thigh, thin black stockings, and boots that looked like they'd cause some damage if Alex was pissed.

'Hey there,' Greg said as he dropped into the seat beside Lily, 'did it hurt when you fell from heaven, beautiful?'

Lily burst into laughter and Alex snickered. 'Of all the pick-up lines, you choose _that_ one?' the Australian asked.

Greg shrugged and sipped his drink. 'I've never hit on a chick before,' he defended himself before turning to Lily. He eyed her shirt before asking, 'What's Bowling For Soup?'

Lily's mouth dropped open. 'Are you serious?' Greg just raised both eyebrows, waiting. 'You don't... it's Bowling For Soup! _High School Never Ends, 1985, Punk Rock 101_!'

'Um...' Greg hummed.

'It's a band,' Alex cut in helpfully.

'Thank you!' Greg said. 'See, Sunshine, why couldn't you just say that?'

Lily scowled and folded her arms. 'I didn't realise you were an idiot.'

'Oi!' Greg huffed.

'Hey, look at that,' Lily interrupted. Mycroft had just popped out of the crowd with BJ, Joe and some girl Greg had never seen before. Lily leaned up and tapped Mycroft on the side of the head, the boy just raising an eyebrow. 'You're wearing more make-up than Alex and me combined,' Lily said.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and Greg chuckled. 'Mycroft can't help it if he looks shaggable in make-up,' he said.

'Charming as ever, Gregory dear,' Mycroft hummed.

Greg sat up far enough to press a kiss to his boyfriend's cheek. 'You love it, Mycroft darling.'

'God,' Alex groaned, 'your cuteness is giving me cavities.' She looked around. 'Where can a girl get a beer in this place?'

'Go to the bar and say, “I'm with Mycroft Holmes”,' Mycroft told the Australian. 'You'll get a discount and they won't check your ID.'

'Discount?' Lily demanded. 'I bet Greggie gets his drinks for free.'

Greg smirked. 'The benefits of sleeping with the owner.'

Lily rolled her eyes and swatted Greg over the back of the head, but stood and followed and her best friend through the crowd. Greg smiled and watched them go before turning back to his boyfriend.

Mycroft made him move over so he could slide into the booth, and BJ, Joe and the mystery girl sat opposite them.

'Where're Dimmock and Molly?' Greg asked Joe. He still had to shout a bit to be heard over the music, but the booths were far enough away from the speakers that he didn't heave to shout _too_ loudly.

'Molly had to go to the bathroom and Dimmo wanted a smoke afterwards,' BJ explained. 'Said they'd join us after getting a drink.'

BJ, Joe and the girl already had drinks, evidently having headed to the bar with Mycroft before coming over. Joe had something dark, most likely bourbon, BJ was drinking beer, and the girl had what Greg assumed was lemonade.

'So...' Greg hummed and looked pointedly at Joe. Joe looked confused so Greg nodded his head at the girl.

'Shit, right,' Joe said and Greg swore he blushed as he turned to the girl. 'Age, this is Greg, one of my mates.' The girl smiled and nodded at Greg. 'Greg, this is Age, my girlfriend.'

He seemed so proud of that fact that it made Greg grin. Like most young blokes Joe had slept around a bit, but he'd never had as many one-night stands as Greg and Dylan. He'd had a few girlfriends here and there, but nothing long-lasting.

'Hey,' Greg nodded at Age. 'Sorry, but Age, that's kind of a weird name.'

'Short for Adrienne,' she said and brushed her hair from her eyes.

It was a bit lighter than Mycroft's, making it more red than auburn. Her eyes were light, either grey or blue, Greg couldn't tell in this light, and she had a smattering of freckles across her right cheek and nose. She was sitting close to Joe, but seemed to know BJ because she looked comfortable with him.

'Thank you for inviting me,' Age said and Greg shook himself from his thoughts, 'I've never really been to a club before, and this one's nice.'

'Thank you,' Mycroft smiled. 'We're happy to have you.'

Greg liked that “we” thing; like Mycroft had decided with _him_. Like they were a package deal; couldn't have one without the other. Greg supposed that was true. He and Mycroft did everything together.

'How long have you known Joe?' Mycroft asked when everybody else failed to start a conversation.

'A few months,' Adrienne said, head tilted as she thought. 'My brother plays football for Patcham High School and I watch most weekends. My best friend, Wendy, kind of has a crush on BJ,' she admitted and looked at the teenager in question, who grinned behind his glass. 'So we started going to every game that Patcham played against Baker Street. And then Joe started showing up and Wendy made me go talk to him and BJ to get BJ's number.'

Here she rolled her eyes and Greg snickered. More than once he'd asked one of his mates- usually Dimmock- to go chat to a guy he wanted to hook up with.

'We started talking, got to know each other, and Joe asked me out about two weeks ago,' Age finished and smiled brightly at her boyfriend.

Joe grinned in response.

'Ah, young love,' Greg sighed.

Joe kicked him under the table. 'Some of us don't maul our partner's every chance we get,' he said and gestured pointedly between Greg and Mycroft.

Greg threw an arm around Mycroft's shoulder and the genius rolled his eyes as he was dragged closer. 'We're hot, leave us alone,' Greg stated and pressed a wet kiss to Mycroft's cheek.

'I really can't take you to nice places,' Mycroft sighed dramatically.

The pout on Greg's face was Emmy award-winning, and Mycroft couldn't help but close the gap between them to kiss Greg properly. That, of course, started off a nice hot round until BJ groaned and Joe told them to knock it off.

They broke apart and Greg pecked Mycroft one last time before turning back to his friends. 'Sorry about that,' he said to Age, who was smiling, 'but my boyfriend's a sexy piece of man-meat and I really can't help myself.'

Age giggled. 'That's okay, really.'

They all turned when Alex and Lily returned, this time with Molly and Dimmock. Dimmock nodded at Greg as they all started shuffling about, trying to make enough room for everyone to sit. Eventually Greg and Mycroft stood so Molly, Lily and Alex could take their side of the booth, and Dimmock stole two wooden chairs from one of the tables at the back of the club.

Greg threw himself onto one of them and dragged Mycroft atop him. The older boy had to stifle a moan when Mycroft wiggled about before getting comfortable, his arse pressing firmly against Greg's crotch. He pressed his face against Mycroft's shoulder and mumbled, 'You did that on purpose.'

'Maybe,' Mycroft replied and Greg could hear the grin in his voice.

'Wanker.'

'If anyone's uncomfortable there's an outside area near the smoke room,' Mycroft announced, completely ignoring his boyfriend. 'There should be plenty of room since it's so cold, but there are outdoor heaters placed around each table.'

'But we _just_ got comfortable,' Lily whined.

'Can we smoke out there?' Joe asked.

Mycroft nodded and the other boy looked at his girlfriend.

'It's a bit squishy here,' Age murmured.

'Oh, yeah, let's all listen to the new girl,' Lily complained but stood anyway.

'Ignore her,' Alex said, 'she's a lunatic.'

'Mush, Skippy, mush!' Lily shouted and grabbed their drinks. Alex rolled her eyes but followed along until it was clear Lily had no idea where she was going.

Various complaints came from the group- who _had_ just made themselves comfortable- but they all followed Mycroft across the dance floor. He pushed open a swinging wooden door that was between the mens' and womens' bathrooms, and they spilled out into an area enclosed by tall concrete walls. There were rectangular flowerpots everywhere filled with perfectly cut bushes, as well as wooden tables in all sizes and tall, silver heaters.

Two guys dressed in black- no doubt more bouncers- stood at the exit making sure nobody tried to sneak in, and other then them most of the area was deserted. There were two groups like themselves, one near the door, the other at the opposite end, as well as a few guys smoking by the large silver ashtrays provided.

Lily picked a table somewhere in the middle and dropped onto the long wooden seat. The table was like the picnic tables at school only longer and it was big enough for all of them. As the group took their seats one of the bouncers came over to start the heaters on either end.

'Mr Holmes,' he said and nodded at Mycroft, who smiled in return.

'Damn, I keep forgetting you own this place,' Lily whistled.

'It's amazing,' Age said.

Greg was sitting on the end of his seat with Mycroft beside him, then Lily and Alex. Joe was directly opposite him, then Age, BJ, Dimmock and Molly.

'I feel like someone's missing,' Greg commented.

'Anthea and Sally are running late,' Mycroft told him. 'Sally's parents are fighting and Sally wasn't allowed out, so Anthea was waiting for her to sneak out.' He was checking his BlackBerry as he said it, no doubt texting one of the girls.

'I thought they were coming with you?' Greg directed his question at Joe.

'They were,' Joe nodded, 'but like Mycroft said, Sally's parents were bitching when we got there and didn't even answer the door. Anthea said she'd wait it out and drive.'

'I swear I heard them throwing plates,' Age added. 'I hate it when parents fight.'

Greg grunted in response and took a large gulp of his drink. He remembered _his_ parents fighting. He'd blocked most of it out, but he had clear memories of his mum throwing plates trying to attract the neighbours so Clayton Temple would stop trying to hit her or Greg. Some of his earliest memories were of hiding under his bed or in the laundry between the washing machine and dryer. His mum had always hidden him when his dad went on a drunken bender.

Clearly trying to change the subject, Molly leaned forward and asked Age how she and Joe had met. Greg tuned the conversation out and sipped his drink, letting his friends' voices wash over him. After more rounds of introductions Lily tried to get Molly to try her drink- something with vodka in it- while BJ and Joe discussed football and Alex, Dimmock and Age talked about... something. Mycroft was a warm presence beside Greg, and the heater on his other side was making the cool air bearable.

Greg let himself relax, not realising he was somewhat tense until now. Between Maggie catching him and Mycroft in bed together, followed by suddenly deciding to go out, Mycroft's Harley, and getting there in general, Greg was rather wound-up. But his J.D. and Coke was doing it's job and the friendly atmosphere was working well; Greg leaned against his boyfriend and sighed.

'Are you okay?' Mycroft asked. Music was coming out of speakers set up somewhere near the main building, but it wasn't very loud; they could talk without having to shout.

'Yeah, fine,' Greg nodded and turned to look at him. 'Just relaxed, is all.'

'Are you sure?'

Greg nodded and turned to smile at his boyfriend. 'I'm fine, honestly.'

Mycroft opened his mouth to say something but his BlackBerry vibrated across the table before him. He smiled apologetically at Greg and reached for it.

After a few taps at the keys, Mycroft said, 'Anthea and Sally are here, I better go make sure they're let in.'

'I'll come, I need another drink,' Greg said. He drained his glass before standing and told the others where they were going before following Mycroft.

They made their way inside and pushed through the crowd. Halfway through Mycroft grabbed Greg's hand so they didn't get separated, and Greg grinned as he linked their fingers. Call him an idiot for liking it so much, but hand-holding was _awesome_.

Soon they'd reached the doors and Mycroft had a quick word with one of the bouncers. They waited about a minute before Anthea and Sally were led in, both girls wearing skirts, stockings, and jackets to keep them warm.

Anthea and Mycroft hugged, while Sally held out her hand for a fist-bump from Greg. Greg laughed and did as requested before saying, 'Alright there?'

Sally seemed to know that he was referring to her parents, because she gave him a tight smile and said, 'Yeah, it's... you know.'

Greg nodded. 'Need to talk, give us a shout.'

'Thanks, Greg,' Sally smiled.

'Drinks?' Mycroft asked, breaking Greg and Sally's conversation. They both nodded and made their way to the bar, where Mycroft ordered; three J.D. and Cokes, and something with rum for Sally.

Their drinks had just arrived when a song Greg was familiar with started playing.

'Hey, The Living End!' Greg shouted.

Mycroft cocked his head and sipped his drink. It was _West End Riot_ , one of The Living End's earliest- and one of Mycroft's favourite- songs.

Greg grabbed Mycroft's hand and tugged. 'Come on, let's dance!'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. ' _You_ want to dance?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Well, I say dance... um, s'more like jumping around.' Mycroft snorted. 'Come _onnn_ ,' Greg whined as the drums and double bass joined the guitar.

'Fine, fine,' Mycroft said and turned back to Anthea and Sally. 'Everyone's sitting outside; have fun.'

'We'll take your drinks,' Anthea said and took the tumbler from Mycroft.

'Cheers,' Greg grinned when Sally picked up his own drink.

'Have fun,' Sally winked as Mycroft finally let Greg tug him through the crowd.

_There's a kid who was born and raised in the west... there's a kid in the east who never really fit in with the rest..._

'I _love_ this song!' Greg shouted when he finally stopped walking.

'It sounds better live,' Mycroft said. Greg just grinned; he remembered seeing The Living End live, and Mycroft was right. Then again, most bands sounded better live.

The chorus started and Greg grabbed Mycroft's hips, tugging him closer as he started moving with the music. Mycroft chuckled but hooked his arms around Greg's neck. Most of the people around them were grinding against each other or jumping around, so they fit right in.

_We'll be here next Saturday, with our guns and our heads held high! So listen up, boys, you'd better not cry!_

The couple mostly swayed and jumped a bit until the guitar solo came, and then Mycroft grabbed Greg's hand and made them dance properly. Greg giggled as he was swayed from side-to-side, and Mycroft even spun and dipped him.

Greg had no idea how to dance properly, but Mycroft seemed to know how, so the brunette let his boyfriend lead. It was weird, dancing properly to a punk-rock song, but Greg was having a good time. A lot of people around them were laughing and clapping, a few even trying to mimic their movements with little success.

Unlike the majority of teenage boys, Mycroft had probably had dance lessons at some point in his life. Greg was happy with it, though; he got to cling to his boyfriend's body and see the warm smile that spread across Mycroft's face when they danced together.

_Weeest Eeend riot! RIOT! Weeest Eeend riot! RIOT! We'll be here next Saturday, with our guns and our heads held hiiigh! So listen up, boys, you'd better not cry!_

When the chorus started repeating Mycroft forgot about dancing properly and instead started bouncing on the balls of his feet. Greg followed, though kept a tight hold on Mycroft's hand, as they rubbed against each other and tossed their heads back and forth.

Eventually the song ended, something softer taking over, and Greg breathed in and out heavily as he tugged Mycroft closer.

'Can I help you?' Mycroft asked. He'd pressed his lips to Greg's ear to be overhead without having to shout, and Greg shivered under the pleasant sensation.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded, his cheek rubbing against Mycroft's. 'Stay where you are, gorgeous.'

Mycroft huffed a laugh but pressed a quick kiss to Greg's lips before pressing his face into the brunette's neck. Greg smiled, tugging him closer as they swayed to the music.


	79. Let's Dance To Joy Division

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Let's Dance To Joy Division by The Wombats
> 
>  **Author's Note:** Sorry about the lateness of this chapter! I didn't get it to my beta until a few days ago, totally my fault. Again, sorry, and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Cheers,
> 
> {Dreamer}

Greg was bopping his head along to the new song playing- something heavy and louder than the previous- and Mycroft asked, 'Do you know this song?'

'No idea,' Greg shook his head. He paused to listen to the lyrics, but could only make out...

 _My shit stinks much better than yours_.

He raised an eyebrow at Mycroft.

' _Cigaro_ ,' Mycroft said, 'by System Of A Down.'

'Right,' Greg hummed. 'Never listened to any of their stuff.'

_Can't you see that I love my cock?_

Greg laughed when he heard that and Mycroft smiled against his cheek. ''Kay, I kinda like this song.'

'I thought you would,' Mycroft replied.

 _Wake Me Up When September Ends_ was the next song, and it was suddenly so much quieter in the club. Of course that would pick about a minute and a half into the song, but Greg enjoyed how the music now reflected the way he and Mycroft were standing together; their bodies pressed together, Mycroft's arms back around Greg's neck, Greg's own hands gripping the red-head's hips.

Mycroft started humming the lyrics in Greg's ear, and Greg smiled.

' _Heere_ comes the _raain_ again... falling from the _staars_. Drenched in _myy_ pain again... becoming who we _aaare_. _Aas_ my memory rests... but never forgets _whaat_ I _looost_... wake me up, when September _eeends_.'

Greg pressed a kiss to the skin beneath Mycroft's ear, and Mycroft's arms tightened around him briefly.

'Can you play this on guitar?' Greg asked.

'Mm-hmm,' Mycroft hummed. 'I prefer to play it on one of my electric guitars, but the beginning sounds better on acoustic.'

'Gonna have to play it for me,' Greg said.

Mycroft didn't reply, and the drums and electric guitar joined Billie Joe Armstrong's voice, until the song turned from soft to loud, then mixing between the two.

Mycroft was singing again, but his voice was just a soft vibration against Greg's ear and cheek, drowned out by the loud music. The taller boy started nodding along and bouncing a bit when the guitar solo started, and Greg smiled and closed his eyes, humming along to the guitar.

When the song broke off into the acoustic guitar again, Mycroft sang, and Greg had to pull back. He met Mycroft's eyes and the genius raised an eyebrow, his other joining when Greg cupped his cheek.

Greg tugged Mycroft in for a kiss and Mycroft's hands smoothed down Greg's neck and shoulders, eventually moving further down so Mycroft could tug the brunette closer by the shirt. They kissed gently until the song was over, and Mycroft pulled back to grin.

'Another song before a drink and smoke?' Mycroft asked. 'Or...?'

Greg was having too much fun to stop now. He loved hanging out with his mates, but he loved alone time with Mycroft even more. True, he spent a _lot_ of his time with Mycroft, but that was mostly at home, when Maggie was around. Being just another couple enjoying each other's company in the middle of a club was really nice.

'A few more songs,' Greg said and tugged Mycroft closer.

Mycroft smiled. 'If you want, love.'

Greg grinned at the word, even more so when _Famous Last Words_ by My Chemical Romance started playing.

'Now I know!' Greg shouted, drawing a few people's attention. Mycroft laughed. 'That I can't make you stay! But where's your _heeart_? But where's your _heeart_? But where's your...'

'And I know,' Mycroft took over, 'there's nothing I can _saay_! To _chaange_ that _paart!_ To change _thaat paart! To chaaaange...._ '

Greg started jumping around like a lunatic and playing air guitar, shouting the words and generally making an idiot of himself. But the people around them seemed to be enjoying it; there were even a few girls eyeing Greg and giggling.

Mycroft frowned; he couldn't have _that_. When the chorus started Mycroft grabbed Greg's arm and pulled him close to plant a filthy kiss against his lips. When they broke apart Greg blinked rapidly before grinning.

'I am not afraid to keep on living!' Greg shouted. 'I am not afraid to walk this world alone!'

Mycroft pulled Greg closer as he joined in. 'Honey if you stay, you'll be forgiven. Nothing you can say can stop me going home.'

Greg and Mycroft sang the entire song together- Greg jumping around like an idiot, Mycroft pulling him back when girls got over-friendly- and when the song ended people clapped and cheered. Mycroft blushed while Greg bowed deeply, always ready to get some attention.

Mycroft just rolled his eyes and tugged him towards the bar.

'Come on, I'm just havin' some fun,' Greg panted.

'Those girls liked you too much!' Mycroft said, having to shout when a new song filled the club.

'Aw, come on-' Greg began, but stopped when Mycroft bumped into someone, Greg then bumping into him.

'Sorry-' Mycroft began, only to step back quickly, almost knocking Greg off his feet.

'Mycroft?' Greg said and looked around his boyfriend. 'What's...' He trailed off when he saw that it was Dylan Saunders who Mycroft had bumped into.

'What the fuck?' Dylan snarled when he realised who he was looking at. He didn't appear to be with anyone, which didn't surprise Greg or Mycroft; Dylan was an arsehole, and even the biggest dickheads at Baker Street Academy didn't want to hang around him.

'What the hell are you doing here?' Greg demanded. Great. Just _great_. They couldn't even go out to a fucking club- _Mycroft's club_ \- without running into trouble.

'Havin' fun,' Dylan said and glared at Greg. 'Didn't know they let fags in here.'

Mycroft's face twisted into a glare, but he didn't say anything. Greg immediately stepped forward.

'What the fuck did you just say?' he snapped, his anger already spiking.

Dylan smirked. 'You heard me, Lestrade.' He turned his attention to Mycroft. 'You suck someone off to get in here?'

Greg felt white hot rage sweep through his body, but beside him Mycroft was calm and collected. Before Greg could do anything stupid- like break Dylan's fucking nose- Dimmock was at his side, Molly and Lily on the other.

'Fuck off, Dylan,' Dimmock said, his voice and eyes both hard.

'Well, well, well- look who it is,' Dylan sniffed. 'Lestrade's other bum-buddy.'

'Bum-buddy, are you serious?' Lily asked. 'God, could you be any more of a douche?'

'Anyone ask you, Hooper?'

Lily rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. 'No one asked you either, mate. Leave us the fuck alone and nobody gets hurt.'

Dylan laughed and swayed a bit on his feet, but Greg knew better than to blame the blonde's attitude on alcohol. He was a prick even without a few beers in him. Greg just wished he'd seen it sooner.

'You heard the lady,' Mycroft said, still sounding like he was holding a pleasant conversation. 'Please leave, Dylan, or we'll be forced to make you.'

' _You_?' Dylan sneered, eyes travelling up and down Mycroft's body. Greg's fingers curled into fists; he didn't like the way Dylan was eyeing his boyfriend. 'What're you gonna do, Holmes?'

Their clear stand-off was drawing attention; the men and women were edging away, and sooner or later someone would call one of the bouncers. Not that that mattered; Mycroft owned the fucking place.

Trying to push his anger down, Greg took a deep breath and said, 'Fuck off, Dylan. We won't tell you again.'

Dylan just smirked. 'You're a fuckin' fairy, Lestrade. What're you gonna do, huh?'

'Greg, he's not worth it,' Mycroft said quickly.

'Yeah, listen to your boy toy,' Dylan sneered. 'Go fuck in a corner or somethin' like the filthy fags you are.'

Greg took a step closer, his anger mounting.

'Or have you moved on already?' Dylan continued. 'Already fucking Dimmock and Holmes, have ya moved on to Joe yet?'

Greg's nails dug into his palms.

'Or are you fuckin' Sherlock Holmes?' Dylan laughed. 'He'd probably be a good screw.'

Greg's tenuous hold on his temper snapped and he launched himself forward. His fist connected with Dylan's nose before the blonde could even blink and they both stumbled, Dylan falling to the floor with a thud. His drink went flying, showering the people standing closest in bourbon, and the glass hit the wood beneath their feet with a loud _crash_ , glass flying in all directions.

Greg swung even as he went down, getting Dylan in the chin before he landed on his knees. He was vaguely aware of people shouting and someone trying to tug him to his feet, but all he could focus on was Dylan.

Dylan got maybe two or three punches in, blows that just glanced Greg's face or ribs, but he was too drunk, and Greg too pissed off, to fight back properly. Everything blurred around the edges for Greg, all he could see was Dylan's face; his nose cracking with an audible _crunch_ under Greg's rapidly bruising knuckles; his lip splitting in two places by his own teeth; his eye swelling rapidly and his eyebrow busting open; a tooth knocked loose and cutting open Greg's hand.

The brunette managed to smack Dylan in the head one last time before two pairs of arms hooked under his own and dragged him back kicking and screaming. It wasn't until he realised the person on his right was Lily that he stopped fighting; he didn't wanna hurt her.

Dylan barely moved, whimpering and coughing up blood on the floor. Greg's breathing was harsh in his own ears and he watched as two men dressed in black- bouncers- dragged Dylan to his feet.

'Call an ambulance and wait outside,' Mycroft ordered, slipping into boss mode. 'Both of you go with him and use a company card for any expenses, including any compensation. If he wants to press charges, contact me, and warn him that he was goading my boyfriend. Make sure he _never_ sets foot in this club again.'

The two beefy men nodded and Dylan peeled the one eye that wasn't swollen open, staring with pain and confusion.

'Next time you wanna start a fight with Greg, don't do it in a club his fucking boyfriend owns!' Dimmock shouted from Greg's left.

Dylan's face twisted into a snarl, fresh blood spilling from his lips and cuts, but before he could say anything he was dragged away. Mycroft immediately turned to Greg, marching forward, and Lily let him go.

'Are you alright?' Lily asked.

'Uh... fuck...' was all Greg got out.

'Need some help?' Dimmock asked while Molly fretted beside Mycroft.

Mycroft realised that practically all eyes in the club where on their group, and shook his head as he wrapped his fingers around Greg's wrist. 'No, I've got it covered,' he said. He tugged Greg's arm and added, 'Move.'

Greg let himself be steered through the club, people parting like the Red Sea to let them through. It wasn't until a door slammed shut and the sounds of voices and music failed to reach his ears that Greg realised he was in the back hall of the club.

Mycroft pushed Greg against the wall and grabbed his hands, inspecting them quickly, while Greg just stared at him, not sure what to say.

'A few cuts and bruises,' Mycroft murmured, 'we should get them cleaned up. There's a first aid kit in my office.'

He went to pull away but Greg grabbed him, and Mycroft turned slowly, eyebrows going up.

Greg suddenly had the overwhelming urge to hold Mycroft and apologise, so he tugged the taller boy close and wrapped his arms firmly around his boyfriend.

'Gregory,' Mycroft breathed and latched onto his hips. 'Are you okay?'

Greg pulled back only far enough to press their lips together, his words muffled by their kisses.

'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I always fuck up, I... _fuck...._ he made me so goddamn angry...'

Mycroft shook his head and broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against Greg's. 'It's fine.'

'I started a fucking fight in the middle of your club, Myc,' Greg said.

'I know,' Mycroft sighed, 'and I always run away from my problems.'

Frowning, Greg pulled back to look at the red head.

'We all have our issues, Greg,' Mycroft said. 'And we all have our own fucked up ways of dealing with them. I hate that you resort to violence, but I understand why.'

'I'm sorry,' Greg repeated and tried for a smile, the gesture coming out as more of a grimace. 'Violence isn't the answer, right?'

Mycroft smiled and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 'No, it's not,' he agreed, 'but sometimes it can't be helped.'

Greg shook his head. 'My dad used violence to deal with his shit.'

'Don't!' Mycroft practically snarled and the brunette stared at him. 'You're not your father, Gregory.'

'Myc-'

'Do you get drunk because you need to in the middle of the day?' Mycroft asked.

'Uh... no,' Greg said.

'Do you always put your own wants and needs above everyone else's?'

'N-No.'

'Do you ever hit the people you love?' Mycroft demanded.

'No,' Greg said firmly.

'You aren't your father, Gregory,' Mycroft told him firmly and kissed Greg again. 'We all have issues, but yours aren't that bad, and don't you ever think otherwise.'

Greg nodded vigorously and closed his eyes, breathing in and out deeply as he tried to get control of himself. His hands were still shaking and he grabbed onto Mycroft's jacket, trying to anchor himself, as he closed his eyes.

'M'fine,' Greg told himself firmly. 'I'm _fine_.'

'You are,' Mycroft agreed. He paused before saying, 'At least you deal with your problems.' Greg peeled his eyes open to look at his boyfriend. 'I run,' Mycroft said simply.

'Yeah,' Greg murmured, remembering Mycroft running after they had a fight, and from Siger when he caught them in bed together. 'Better than bashing some bastard,' Greg continued.

Mycroft just shook his head, kissed Greg's cheek, and tugged him in for a hug.

Greg felt himself relax in his partner's grip and closed his eyes again. He continued to breathe in and out deeply, letting Mycroft's cologne and warmth wash over him to calm him down.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


After Greg's hands had stopped trembling, Mycroft took him to his office. He sat the shorter boy down and cleaned up his cut and bruised knuckles with creams and liquids that stung like all fuck. There wasn't much else he could do after that, but at least the cuts wouldn't get infected; Greg could handle the throbbing.

They then went back downstairs and got fresh drinks, Mycroft also ordering shots that the couple downed quickly before heading outside. The whole group minus BJ, Joe and Age were there, though they'd moved to a table in the corner, and thankfully none of them asked any questions. Dimmock and the others must have filled them in, though, because every so often someone would glance at the couple before quickly looking away. Greg didn't care; he just didn't want to talk about it.

Mycroft sat in the far corner with Greg, and he'd quickly tugged Greg into his side as they got comfortable. Greg smiled and let himself relax into his boyfriend's warmth. This is what he'd wanted; a few drinks and laughs with his mates, like what they'd been doing _before_ Dylan fucked everything up.

Greg sighed and sipped his drink, and Mycroft squeezed his shoulder.

'M'fine,' he mumbled.

Mycroft just pressed a kiss to the side of his head and started a conversation with Lily, who went into great detail- with voices and gestures included- about some radio show she loved. Greg had to smile as he watched her; she was already making everybody forget about the Dylan incident- Greg's mates were great.

Something cold hit him in the cheek and Greg yelped, almost elbowing Mycroft in the gut. He grabbed his neck and found a piece of ice sliding down his skin and scowled as he looked around.

His eyes landed on Dimmock, who was whistling and playing with a straw in one of the empty glasses. Molly was trying not to giggle beside him as she sipped her lemon squash... a drink with _ice_.

'Oh, it is _so_ on!' Greg announced and grabbed one of the glasses that had only a little bit of beer left in the bottom.

'No!' Dimmock shouted and dove for cover as he threw another piece of ice at Greg, which hit him in the chin.

Scratch that... Greg's mates were bastards.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg forgot how much he liked kissing. He'd his fair share of snogs over the years, but it had always been a means to an end. Dimmock was the only person, before Mycroft, that Greg had ever kissed just for the sake of it. Of course, it _had_ been followed by sex, but Greg hadn't known that at the time. All his past partners had wanted the same thing Greg did; sex. A blow job, hand job, or penetration; kissing just led to that. But with Mycroft, Greg just enjoyed kissing him, and if the moans Mycroft always made were anything to go by, the auburn-haired teen liked it too.

But since they'd had sex the first time, they didn't snog as much as they used to. There were soft kisses here, maybe a bit of a mad make out session there, but never long periods of time where they just kissed because they enjoyed it. Usually they lost control of themselves and ended up shagging.

Well, tonight was different. After getting caught by Maggie, and then Dylan being his usual dick-hole self, Greg and Mycroft both just wanted the comfort and familiarity of snogging their partner.

They were still sitting outside at a table, Greg with his back to one of the concrete walls, Mycroft leaning against him. After what had happened with Dylan- and the impromptu ice/alcohol fight between Greg and Dimmock (which Alex had won when she went all ninja and managed to trip both boys and dump the contents of her beer over their heads)- nobody told them off for ignoring the group and moaning softly at each other.

When they finally broke apart for air, their lips nice and swollen, Greg sighed and leaned back.

'Problem?' Mycroft asked while sipping his beer.

'Nah,' Greg smiled. 'Just happy. Have I mentioned lately how much I love your tongue piercing?'

Mycroft chuckled. He wore a clear or pink plastic bell and bar at school, and never really spoke much, effectively hiding it from teachers. At home he no longer had to; Maggie honestly didn't care.

Greg _loved_ it. Absolutely, one-hundred percent, _loved_ it. The way it felt in his mouth, against his tongue, on his body...

'Stop thinking about my tongue piercing,' Mycroft slapped him gently on the chest.

'Sorry,' Greg smiled.

Mycroft smiled back. 'We needed tonight, I think,' he said, changing the subject. 'It would have been perfect if not for-'

Greg nudged him, cutting him off. 'Forget him, yeah? We'll pretend it didn't happen.'

'How are you going to explain your knuckles to your mother?' Mycroft asked. He picked up one of Greg's hands and lightly ran his fingers over the bruised flesh.

'Um... a kangaroo totally broke into the house and I took it down,' Greg said.

Mycroft snorted. 'Seeing as how we neither live in Australia, nor next door to a zoo, I'm afraid she might see through that.'

'Nah, I'm a master liar,' Greg grinned. 'I'll totally get her to believe me.'

Mycroft just laughed and set his drink down. 'More kissing,' he demanded suddenly and pounced, locking their lips together.

'And here we see the gay couple in their natural habitat,' Lily announced in a deep voice from across the table.

Alex snorted from beside her.

'The mating rituals of the gays are very important and mustn't be interrupted,' Lily continued.

'Every day I'm reminded that you're a lunatic,' Alex said and Age giggled.

'Hey, I'm making a documentary here,' Lily scowled and pulled out her phone. 'Let's record them and use it for blackmail material.'

Greg just flipped her off and Mycroft laughed against his boyfriend's lips.

'I'm wounded, Greg, absolutely wounded!' Lily pouted even as she started recording on her mobile.

'Fuck off,' was Greg's response.

'You're right, Lil,' Alex said, 'if you interrupt them you get told off.'

'See?' Lily beamed. 'Gotta watch out for the gays, they're fierce.'

'I'll show you fierce if you don't shut your cake-hole,' Greg said, briefly pulling away from Mycroft to scowl at her.

'Oh yeah?' the girl smirked. 'Whatchya gonna do?'

Greg opened his mouth, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by a moan when Mycroft started sucking on his neck. Greg quickly grabbed his boyfriend, tugging on his red hair until he could seal their lips back together.

'That's what I thought,' Lily said and readjusted her phone to catch both their faces. 'Who're we gonna sell this to? Let's vote!'

'Sell it to me, I'll show Maggie when Greg's being a dick,' Dimmock said.

'I hear five quid!' Lily shouted. 'Five quid, going once! Do I hear anyone else? Any more takers? Six quid? Come on, people, good footage of boys snogging!'

The group laughed while Greg and Mycroft continued kissing, ignoring them all. Which was nothing new, really. They were all just happy that the night hadn't been completely ruined by Dylan.

The moans they could do without, though.


	80. So What

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** So What by P!nk
> 
> **Author's Note:** Sorry for the wait, but I have a cold, so I'm not feeling too good. I probably won't post again until I'm feeling better, which is hopefully soon. Anywho, enjoy the chapter.
> 
> {Dreamer}

'What's with the bike in the garage?' were Maggie's first words the next morning. Greg and Mycroft had woken up late; it was just after ten and they were eating breakfast in the sitting room, channel surfing.

'It's Mycroft's,' Greg said, jerking his head at his boyfriend.

'Aren't you too young to ride something that powerful?' Maggie asked as she stepped further into the room. 'I remember Greg moaning about not being able to ride a better bike.'

Mycroft smiled at the brunette before saying, 'Technically, yes, I'm too young to ride it. But I saw it, I wanted it, so I bought it. I kept it in the garage at the Manor, but Anthea called me and said Siger was going to sell it. So I went over there and rode it here.' He paused to look at Maggie. 'Is it alright if I keep it here?'

'Yes, that's fine, Mycroft,' Maggie smiled. 'As long as you don't ride it,' she added and went into the kitchen.

'I won't,' Mycroft said. 

'You rode it last night,' Greg snickered.

'It's not the only thing I rode last night,' Mycroft said and smirked when Greg blushed and licked his lips. 'Besides, I only just made the promise; last night doesn't count.'

'Then neither does riding me,' Greg said. 'You'd better do it again.'

'You make absolutely no sense,' Mycroft hummed. He leaned over and whispered in Greg's ear, 'But I'll definitely ride you again, so hard you won't be able to walk the next morning.'

Greg shivered and pointedly stared at the TV, shoving cereal into his mouth. Mycroft grinned and turned back to his own breakfast.

'Is there any bread?' Maggie called from the kitchen.

'No, Mycroft ate the last few pieces,' Greg replied. 'I can pick some up after work.'

'What time?' Maggie asked.

Greg paused to think, head tilted. 'I'm working from one to ten,' he eventually said.

'Fancy doing the shopping after your shift?' Maggie said, walking back into the room. 'We're out of soup, eggs, bacon, marmalade...'

'I can drop him off and pick him up,' Mycroft offered.

'If there's a register open I can,' Greg said. 'Sometimes they're all packing in at five to ten, other times the manager and a few check-out people stay behind.'

'Alright, just let me know when you finish,' Maggie said and wandered back into the kitchen in search of something to eat.

They fell into silence for a few minutes until Maggie came back in with a bowl of cereal like Greg's and sat in the armchair near her son. She was halfway through her bowl when she looked at Greg and frowned.

'What happened to your hands?'

Greg froze, eyes staring ahead at the TV, while beside him Mycroft shifted a bit and played with his toast.

'Greg?'

'Er...'

'Gregory!'

'Um... just... l-last night,' Greg tried to lie, not looking at his mum, 'Mycroft and I went for a, uh, walk, and... some guys, you know... said stuff... no big deal.'

He continued to stare at the TV, but could feel Maggie's eyes on him, glaring, using those super powers most mums had to figure out when you were lying. Greg had often wondered if there was some kind of class all mums took to ferret out your secrets. Or maybe it was biological, and as soon as someone became a parent, they just _knew_.

Or maybe Greg was just a shitty liar.

'Some guys just picked a fight with you, last night, when you and Mycroft went for a walk?' Maggie suddenly spoke.

'Yup,' Greg said, trying to act nonchalant.

'In our neighbourhood, where everyone within a ten mile radius knows that you're gay, some guys just _started a fight_?'

'… yup,' Greg repeated.

'And you and Mycroft were just... taking a walk?' Maggie asked. ' _You_ , Greg; the only exercise you do is running around at parties and having sex with your boyfriend.'

'Mum!' Greg groaned and slouched down on the sofa. Ever since he'd started dating Mycroft, his mum had been talking about his sex life like it was no big deal. It was _his_ sex life and _private_ and _his fucking mum was talking about it!_

'I'm just trying to make sense of this obvious lie you've told me,' Maggie said and grinned when Greg scowled at her. 'Wanna tell me what really happened?'

'That's what happened!' Greg insisted. 'I got into a fight with some douche-bag, that's all.'

Maggie's eyes slid to Mycroft, and it took the auburn-haired teen a minute to realise she was looking at him.

'That _is_ what happened,' he backed Greg up.

'Thank you!' Greg shouted, throwing his hands in the air.

'Mm-hmm,' Maggie hummed. 'I think you're telling the truth about the fight, not about the place. You and Mycroft taking a casual stroll down the street? I don't think so, buddy.'

'Well that's what happened,' Greg grumbled.

'Uh-huh.'

'It is!'

'Sure it is.'

Greg rounded on Mycroft. 'Gonna help me out here?'

Mycroft blinked at him rapidly before saying, 'I need more toast,' and jumping to his feet.

'We're outta bread!' Greg reminded him, but Mycroft didn't turn around. 'And you've still got two pieces on your bloody plate!' Mycroft completely ignored him. 'Bastard,' Greg grunted and looked back at the TV.

Maggie chuckled. 'So you're sticking to the “we went for a walk and some idiots started a fight” story?'

'Yup,' Greg nodded.

'Fine, don't tell me,' Maggie sighed. 'But you're alright?'

'Yeah, m'fine,' Greg said. He wasn't sure if Dylan was fine; he'd definitely broken his nose and drawn a lot of blood. Dylan might press charges, yes, but if Greg could go back in time he'd still react the same way. _Nobody_ said that shit about his boyfriend (or his boyfriend's brother) without getting smacked in the face for it.

'If you say so,' Maggie said, going back to her cereal.

Mycroft eventually returned, sliding onto the sofa by Greg and finishing his toast; he still had two pieces and they looked like they'd gone cold, but he munched away stoically without turning his eyes from the TV. Greg wanted to punch the red head for not backing him up with Maggie, while at the same time wanting to snog him because of how cute he was when trying to stay out of fights.

_Bastard, lookin' all annoying and gorgeous_ , Greg thought as he finished his cereal. He leaned forward to slide the bowl onto the table and grabbed his mug of coffee, sitting back and sipping. _Mm, coffee..._

The three flicked between morning cartoons, crap, and the morning news (which was also crap, but better than nothing). Eventually Maggie yawned and stood, taking her bowl, Greg's, and Mycroft's plate.

'I can do that,' Mycroft said but Maggie shook her head.

'It's fine,' she said and went into the kitchen, leaving Greg and Mycroft alone.

'You're a prick,' Greg scowled and thumped his boyfriend in the thigh.

'What the hell was that for?' Mycroft demanded.

Greg glared at him. 'Not backing me up with Mum!'

'What was I supposed to say?' Mycroft hissed.

'You still coulda helped!'

'I demand to know what I could have possibly said that would make her believe us,' Mycroft grumbled.

Scowling, Greg folded his arms and stared at the TV. 'Bastard.'

'Idiot,' Mycroft replied easily.

'Jerk.'

'Bitch!'

'Prick!'

'Gregory!'

Greg's shoulders hunched, entire body seeming to fold into itself as Maggie glared at him from the hallway entrance.

'Sorry,' he mumbled while beside him Mycroft snickered.

'Use that language again and I'll put you over my knee, young man,' Maggie threatened.

'Oh Christ, don't!' Greg begged. 'Please, I'll be good!'

'You'd better,' Maggie grumbled and disappeared down the hallway.

There was silence for about three seconds before Mycroft mumbled, 'Mummy's boy.'

Greg pounced, throwing Mycroft against the armrest and trying to tickle him. Mycroft was quick, though, and actually trained; Greg just threw fists and kicks in fights, Mycroft actually knew what he was doing.

So he easily flipped them until Greg was on the floor between the couch and coffee table, moaning as Mycroft bit into his neck and shoulder.

'Apologise,' Mycroft ordered before digging his teeth in particularly hard.

Greg moaned louder and thrust his hips up, trying to get some friction against his suddenly interested cock. Who knew trying to hit your boyfriend could turn into fun times?

'Gregory...' Mycroft growled and pushed Greg's hands further up. He had both of the brunette's wrists caught in his hands and had forced them above Greg's head, easily pinning them to the floor.

'Christ, shit, s-sorry,' Greg managed to get out. 'Just bite me again, yeah?'

Mycroft snorted. 'Kinky boy.'

'Uh-huh, whatever,' Greg thrust up again. 'Bite me, Mycroft darling.'

Mycroft chuckled and pressed a soft kiss to one of the red marks already colouring Greg's skin. He heard Maggie walk down the hallway and kissed Greg quickly on the lips before standing and falling back onto the couch.

By the time Maggie re-entered the room, a basket of laundry in her arms, Greg was just sitting up and using the coffee table to stand.

'What are you doing?' she asked as she crossed towards the kitchen.

'Uh... fell?' Greg tried.

Maggie just shook her head and disappeared into the kitchen en route to the laundry.

'Fuck you,' Greg muttered as he sat back down.

'You love it,' Mycroft grinned without taking his eyes off the TV.

'Greg,' Maggie called through the kitchen, the sounds of her tossing clothing into the washing machine reaching the boys' ears.

'What?' Greg asked.

'Your sheets need to be washed!'

'I just changed them, like, a week ago!' Greg shouted back.

Maggie scowled at her son when she walked back in. 'We have a deal, Gregory; you wash your own sheets.'

Mycroft shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, suddenly finding the remote incredibly interesting. He picked at the back as Greg twisted around to look at his mum.

'I _just_ changed 'em,' he complained again.

'Gregory,' Maggie said slowly, 'remember what I said.'

'But-'

'I'm not washing your sheets anymore, Greg,' Maggie cut in. 'If you and Mycroft want to have sex without using condoms-'

' _Mum_!' Greg gaped.

'- then you change your own sheets, _regularly_ ,' Maggie continued. 'Remember?'

Greg groaned, face burning red, but eventually nodded. 'Yeah, I remember,' he mumbled as he faced the TV again and slouched down. 'Fine, I'll do it after you're done.'

'Good,' Maggie said. She walked back down the hallway and Greg sighed.

'She _did_ say she wouldn't wash them anymore,' Mycroft murmured.

'Shut up!' Greg huffed and kicked his boyfriend's feet with his own. Mycroft snickered.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


The couple mostly lazed about the house until Greg had to go to work. Mycroft drove him and suddenly found he had nothing to do. Usually when Greg worked Mycroft either got some of his own business-related things done, read, played his guitar, or did homework. He didn't particularly feel like doing any of that, and he didn't fancy hanging around the house alone with Maggie; he knew that, somehow, she'd get the true story of Greg's injured hand out of him. She was sneaky like that.

So he called Sherlock to see if the younger Holmes wanted to hang out, but Sherlock was busy with John. Next he called Dimmock, but he had plans with Molly. Lily, Alex, Joe, and even BJ were all busy, so Mycroft moved on to Anthea.

' _Well, I've got some Government homework to do_ ,' the girl mused.

Mycroft was sitting on the hood of his car in the McDonalds parking lot. He'd grabbed something to eat with Greg before the brunette went to work, and hadn't moved in the hour since they'd parted ways.

'Please, Anthea, I'm bored,' Mycroft groaned.

Anthea snorted. ' _Your boy toy working, huh?_ '

'He's not my boy toy.'

' _Whatever_ ,' Anthea sniffed dismissively. ' _Help me with my homework and we can hang out._ '

'Where?' Mycroft asked. 'I'm not exactly welcome at the Manor, if you recall.'

' _What about your place?_ ' Anthea suggested.

A warm fuzzy feeling spread through Mycroft's chest at his best friend's words. _Your place_. As in Greg and Maggie _and_ Mycroft's house. _Home_. It felt like more of a home than Holmes Manor ever had. Even the large place they'd grown up in in London hadn't felt as warm or welcoming as Greg's house. It was more to do with the people than the house, but still... Mycroft had never had a proper home before, and now he did. It made him feel all warm and stupid inside.

' _Mikey?_ ' Anthea's voice snapped him from his thoughts and Mycroft shook his head.

'Yeah, sure,' he said. 'Gregory's mother's home, but she won't mind.'

' _Ah-ha, so Lover Boy_ is _working,_ ' Anthea said, and Mycroft could _hear_ her smirking.

'Yes, he doesn't get off until ten,' Mycroft complained.

' _See what happens when you spend every single hour of every single day with the boyfriend?_ ' Anthea said.

'It's hard not to when time with the boyfriend equals fantastic sex,' Mycroft pointed out.

' _True_ ,' Anthea hummed. ' _Anyway, I'll bring my stuff, I just gotta be back by six-thirty. Siger's home for the weekend._ '

'How's Sherlock?' Mycroft asked immediately.

' _Well, he mostly avoids the place as often as possible,_ ' Anthea admitted. ' _Meghan tells Siger to shut his cake-hole whenever the old man asks. Seems everything that happened with you forced her to grow a backbone or something_.'

Mycroft felt annoyance twist at his heart; why couldn't she have done that for _him_? But at the same time, he was glad Sherlock got the freedom he never did. 'That's good,' he settled on saying.

' _Yeah, he stays at John's a lot, goes there after school whenever Siger's around, and Harry drives him home. God, that girl never fucking shuts up._ '

Mycroft chuckled. 'Do you know Gregory's address?' he asked, deciding to move the conversation forward.

' _I picked you up last night, idiot, I haven't forgotten it overnight_.'

'Well, you _did_ drink a fair bit,' Mycroft reminded her.

' _Shut the fuck up, Holmes, I can handle my liquor just fine_.'

Smiling, Mycroft said, 'Twenty minutes?'

' _Thirty to get my stuff together, tell Meghan where I'm going, and drive over._ '

'Say hello for me,' Mycroft said.

' _Will do_ ,' Anthea replied before hanging up.


	81. Na Na Na

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Na Na Na by My Chemical Romance
> 
> **Author's Note:** Hello all! Sorry about the long wait, but as I said when I posted the last chapter, I was sick. Of course, that turned into a case of the flu with bronchitis, so I got sicker than I thought I would. I swear, I have never felt that awful in my life. Anywho, I'm on the mend now (still coughing, though, which sucks), and my dad and brother both caught the flu side of my illness, so that's been fun.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter!
> 
> {Dreamer}

'Is it okay if I have a friend over for a few hours?' Mycroft asked when he walked into the house. Maggie had just woken up from a nap and was sitting in the living room wearing pyjamas and a robe, watching a DVD of _Gilmore Girls._

'That's fine.' Maggie said. 'Who is it?'

'Anthea Lander, she lives at the Manor,' Mycroft explained. 'Her parents work for my father. Her mother was our nanny of sorts before Anthea's grandfather fell ill and they went back to Scotland to take care of him. That's why Mrs Hudson, Anthea's aunt, is helping take care of Sherlock.'

Maggie nodded. 'I haven't heard of her,' she admitted.

'She doesn't go to our school; she's home-schooled,' Mycroft said.

'It's fine,' Maggie repeated. 'Just try to keep it down.'

'I'm helping her with her homework; we'll probably just sit outside if it stays sunny.' 

It was a surprisingly warm day for mid-December; there were still clouds, but the sun was trying its best to peak through and warm the place up. It'd no doubt grow cold later in the evening, but for now Mycroft wanted to take advantage of the nice weather.

Maggie just nodded, said it was fine again, and went back to her show, while Mycroft went to his and Greg's room to wait. About twenty-five minutes later there was a knock on the door and Maggie answered while Mycroft walked out.

'You must be Anthea,' Maggie smiled.

'Yes, ma'am,' Anthea smiled politely and held out her hand. 'Anthea Lander, I'm a friend of Mycroft's... and Greg's, I suppose.'

'Nice to meet you, dear,' Maggie responded and shook the young girl's hand. 'Come in.'

'You're helping me with my homework, right?' Anthea asked Mycroft when she spotted him hovering in the hallway entrance.

Mycroft nodded. 'Do you mind if we go outside? I want to enjoy the sun while I can.'

'That's cool,' Anthea said and followed Mycroft into the kitchen after smiling at Maggie again.

'Are you hungry?' Mycroft asked.

'Bit thirsty; got anything to drink?'

Mycroft grabbed them two cans of Coke and they made their way outside. Mycroft slid the back door shut and they made themselves comfortable at the small patio table sitting atop the square of concrete outside the kitchen window. The backyard was rather small; just a small patch of grass with trees and bushes lining the fence on three sides.

Anthea dropped into the seat opposite Mycroft and unzipped her bag, immediately dumping textbooks, notebooks, and pens on the table.

'That looks like more than Government homework,' Mycroft commented.

'Yeah, well I'm a goddamn liar,' Anthea said and flashed him a grin.

Mycroft rolled his eyes, popping open his can of soda. 'This is why I don't sleep with women.'

'I thought it was because we don't have dicks,' Anthea said.

The red-head snorted a laugh before sipping his Coke.

'Fine,' Anthea sighed over-dramatically. 'I've got Government, PE, and Science homework. You gonna help be or not?'

'I'm not sure I can help with PE,' Mycroft said. 'It might be best if you ask Gregory.'

'Well, at least he's good for something.'

'He's good for a lot of things,' Mycroft replied and smirked when Anthea looked at him.

'You know, I've heard very little about your sex life lately,' Anthea commented, straightening out her various books and stationary. 'Why's that, Mikey?'

'Because what Gregory and I do behind closed doors stays between us,' Mycroft answered.

'That's a first.'

'One-night stands don't mean anything,' Mycroft shrugged. 'With Gregory, it's...'

'Making love?' Anthea teased. When Mycroft didn't reply Anthea raised an eyebrow. 'Seriously? Is it making love? Has the great Mycroft Holmes fallen in love with the rough Gregory Lestrade?'

'Do you even have to ask?' Mycroft sighed.

Anthea smiled. 'Nothing wrong with falling in love, Myc.'

'I know,' Mycroft grumbled and stared pointedly at his drink.

'Sorry, I won't make fun,' Anthea promised. She paused before asking, 'You're happy?'

'Very,' Mycroft nodded.

'Good,' Anthea said.

'And you?' Mycroft asked.

Anthea grinned. 'Unlike you, I have no problem talking about my sex life.'

'I really don't want the details,' Mycroft drawled.

'Oh come on; we can trade little facts without going into detail,' Anthea complained.

Mycroft sighed but said, 'Fine. Give me your Government homework.'

Anthea grinned triumphantly and slid the correct books across the table. She rummaged through her bag and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. 'Can I smoke out here?' she asked.

'I don't know,' Mycroft said. 'Wait a moment, I'll ask.' He stood and went back through the house, finding Maggie in the same position as when he'd left. 'Margaret, is it okay if Anthea smokes in the backyard?'

'There's a bucket thingy under the sink for the butts,' Maggie replied. 'Just wash it when you're done.'

'Thank you.'

'You can smoke too,' Maggie added as Mycroft walked into the kitchen. 'Like I said, I can't stop you.'

'I don't like smoking here when Gregory isn't allowed to,' Mycroft said honestly.

'Well Greg's not here,' Maggie said.

'You're truly evil, aren't you?' Mycroft commented.

'Oh yes,' Maggie replied. Mycroft chuckled and went back outside.

'Yes, you can smoke,' he said when Anthea looked up at him.

'Praise Ms Lestrade in all her wisdom and glory!' Anthea said, clapping her hands together in a prayer.

'I'd forgotten how odd you are,' Mycroft said as he sat.

'Mm, well I'll spend the afternoon reminding you,' Anthea grinned.

Mycroft sat back down as Anthea lit up and flipped her book open to look over the worksheet she was supposed to be completing. 'Why aren't you with Sally?' he questioned. 'It was my understanding you spend most of your time with her.'

'And with Lily and Alex, actually,' Anthea said.

'Really?'

The girl nodded as she blew smoke above their heads. 'Lily's a maniac, I swear to God. It's like she's high _all the time_. I have no fucking idea where she gets the energy.'

'Gregory has three theories,' Mycroft told her. 'One; Lily Hooper is an alien and was planted here to study the human race.' Anthea snorted. 'Two; she eats copious amounts of sweets, or just injects them straight into her blood-stream.'

'Seems legit,' Anthea laughed.

'Or three; she's just a maniac,' Mycroft finished.

'Yeah, Lily's definitely a maniac,' Anthea laughed. 'Anyway, I'm not with Sally because she's at work.'

'And you made fun of _me_ for wanting to spend time with you while Gregory's at work?' Mycroft asked.

Anthea grinned. 'I'm cooler, okay?' Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'When Sally's at work I either do my homework or hang out with Lily and Alex when they're available,' Anthea continued.

'What do you _do_ together?' Mycroft asked, having a hard time imagining Anthea hanging out with Lily and Alex.

'You know, stuff,' Anthea shrugged, taking another drag of her cigarette. 'We watch TV, hang out at each other's houses- well, at Lily's house, really- and sometimes we even go shopping.'

'You, shopping?' Mycroft demanded. 'I can't see it.'

'I go shopping all the time!' Anthea said. 'Like last week. Lily needed a new schoolbag, so we went to the shopping centre; planned on doing some window shopping, maybe going to the movies, getting some dinner after, the usual stuff.'

'Let me guess,' Mycroft interrupted, 'Lily got completely side-tracked and never got her bag.'

'No, she got her bag,' Anthea said, taking another drag of her cigarette and ashing in the plastic bucket Mycroft had set on the table. 'We just also ended up going to two music stores, browsing some DVDs, clothes, puppies, a shoe shop, and some weird little store I'd never bloody seen before where Lily bought twenty different goddamn things. And, of course, every single shop that sold books Alex wandered into and browsed for an _hour_...in each _one_!'

Mycroft laughed. 'She loves reading, you know that. She always has a book on hand.'

'Yeah, she buys these little paperbacks that she can shove into her back pocket so she's always got a novel on hand. Lily goes manic in the stores, Alex trails behind reading. But besides Molly, Alex is the only person who can get Lily back on track.'

'Maybe she'll share her secrets with us mortals,' Mycroft mused.

'I think it's an Aussie thing,' Anthea said. 'You know; always polite and easy to get along with. Maybe Aussies just have special “calm the fucking maniac down” powers.'

'I _dare_ you to ask Alex that,' Mycroft snickered.

'Oh yeah, what's she gonna do?' Anthea demanded. 'Stare at me and call me a pommy?'

'She called me that the other day,' Mycroft said. 'I had no idea what the hell she was saying- Anthea, you can't answer one of the questions with “ _let's just use America's idea and get rid of the Queen so we can have a ninja-like president_ ”.'

'Why _not_?' Anthea whined.

God, she was _so_ like Gregory; Mycroft hadn't seen it before, but he did now. They were both intelligent, but hated homework, and acted like five-year-olds to get out of doing it. Of course, there were certain things Gregory could do to get out of his homework; Anthea didn't have that luxury.

'Obama _is_ a ninja. And he's awesome.'

'So's the Queen.'

'You're biased,' Anthea sniffed.

'How?' Mycroft asked, looking up from Anthea's homework, one eyebrow raised.

''Cause you wanna be the British Government one day,' Anthea grinned, smoke streaming from between her lips. 'So you're sucking up to the Queen, even now, and defending her honour.'

'The Queen _is_ awesome, and that's my final answer,' Mycroft replied and went back to the girl's notebook.

'Biased, you pommy,' Anthea said.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. ' _You're_ English, you do realise that, yes?'

'Nah-ah; I'm Scottish,' Anthea said. 'So British, yeah- English, no.'

'Whatever,' Mycroft dismissed and corrected another of Anthea's answers in pencil. She could go back and erase it later. 'You don't have a Scottish accent, so I refuse to accept it.'

'I grew up in London, idiot,' Anthea said. 'It's a bit hard not to talk like a posh bastard when the Holmes family is around.'

Mycroft snorted but didn't say anything; it was true. Siger and Meghan Holmes spoke like they were aristocrats and not just well off. It had rubbed off on Mycroft and Sherlock, though Sherlock swore so much most people just believed he was a brat. Which he was, so...

'Weren't we gonna swap sex stories?' Anthea asked suddenly, stubbing out her cigarette.

Mycroft groaned. 'I was hoping you'd forgotten,' he admitted.

'Nope,' Anthea waggled a finger at him. 'Not getting out of it, Mycroft. Come on; no details, just general information.'

' _Why_ do you want to know?' Mycroft asked. 'You're gay, it's not like you'll enjoy the stories.'

'I just want to know what Gregory Lestrade's capable of,' Anthea shrugged. 'And if I somehow get some blackmail material out of your stories, well...'

Mycroft snorted and shook his head, eyes back on the papers spread out before him. 'You're a weirdo. I can see how you and Lily get along, and why you're dating Sally.'

'Your boyfriend's weirder than my girlfriend.'

'True,' Mycroft conceded. 'Fine, what do you want to know?'

'Is the sex still good?' Anthea asked immediately. She knew why Mycroft had slept around in the past; the sex was never satisfying, and most of the time Mycroft walked away still aroused as well as pissed off.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'Even after almost four months of doing things together, it's still as amazing as the first time.'

'Aww,' Anthea cooed and Mycroft scowled at her. The girl snickered.

'What about you?' Mycroft asked.

'Bloody fantastic,' Anthea grinned widely. 'Sally's... God, what that girl can do with her tongue-'

'Okay, I don't need anymore information than that,' Mycroft interrupted.

Anthea snickered. 'Is Greg really good?' he asked. 'Like, does he have special moves or anything? I mean, he's slept with a good amount of people, there has to be some special play he has to get them in bed with him.'

Mycroft tilted his head as he thought, running through a few of his and Gregory's couplings. 'Not really, no,' he eventually shook his head. 'Gregory's just... attentive and good at what he does. He knows just what to say and what to do.'

'Good with his tongue?' Anthea wriggled her eyebrows.

'Not that it's any of your business,' Mycroft sniffed, but mumbled, 'he's _very_ good with his tongue.'

'I bet he is; he's got a cheeky mouth.'

'You have _no_ idea.'

Anthea snorted and shook her head.

'Can I ask where you and Sally go?' Mycroft asked. Anthea looked at him. 'It was my understanding that her parents have been excessively fighting lately, and the Manor is hardly a safe place to have same-sex... sex.'

'When her parents are at work we go to her place, same with the Manor,' Anthea said. 'It's fucking annoying not being able to just have sex wherever we fancy, so we make good use of my car.'

'Oh God,' Mycroft groaned and flopped back in his seat. 'I'm never getting in your car again.'

Anthea smirked. 'Don't act like you've never jumped Gregory in the back of your Jag.' Mycroft's answering blush was all Anthea needed. 'Exactly; so shut the fuck up, you judgemental bitch.'

Mycroft snorted and dragged Anthea's backpack across the concrete. 'I need a cigarette if you're going to continue interrogating me.'

'Have at it, Mr Prude,' Anthea said.

'Fuck off.'

'Okay, next question,' Anthea said as Mycroft lit up. 'What's Greg's favourite position? On his hands and knees? Missionary? Upside down, inside out, what?'

'Inside out?' Mycroft wrinkled his nose. 'That sounds... just awful.'

'Whatever, you know what I mean,' Anthea said. 'What's his favourite position?'

Mycroft paused to think about that. They'd never really discussed it, but he could gather the positions and acts Gregory preferred if he flipped through his memories...

'Me on my back, I suppose,' he decided. 'He likes to watch me as I... come.'

Anthea's eyebrows flew up and she eyed Mycroft suspiciously.

'What?' Mycroft asked.

'Well, uh... so, what, he rides you and watches you?' Anthea asked.

' _Noo_...' Mycroft said slowly, his blush darkening. 'He, you know... me on my back, him between my legs...' Fuck, why was talking about sex so bloody embarrassing? Mycroft had no problem when he was throwing it in people's faces, like with Dimmock at parties, or when they were with the entire group. But talking about it _properly_ with his best friend made Mycroft want to hide under his bed.

Anthea frowned. 'I don't understand,' she stated.

'What's there to understand?' the red-head asked. 'Me, on my back. Gregory, between my legs. Him, fucking me. Us, face-to-face.'

'No, I get that!' Anthea snapped. 'What I don't get... well... okay,' she tapped her nails against the table. 'From what I remember of our previous sex talks, you prefer being the top.'

Mycroft blinked. 'Yes, I do.'

'And Gregory prefers being the bottom, correct?'

'Yes,' Mycroft repeated. He'd spoken to Anthea a lot when he'd first started... wooing? Was wooing the right word? Courting? Fucking around with? Regardless, when his relationship with Gregory had become sexual, he'd spoken to Anthea about it.

And she knew all about his past, knew that he preferred to be on top, and that Gregory preferred to be on the bottom. Mycroft currently hated that he'd been so open with her in the past; he wouldn't be having this conversation if he'd kept his mouth shut.

'So why is him on top his favourite position?' Anthea queried. 'Wouldn't it be... you know, _you_ on top?'

Mycroft chewed on his bottom lip.

'Mycroft?'

'We haven't... that is to say, we... well...'

Anthea reached across the table to lay her hand over Mycroft's. 'Use your big boy words, Mycroft,' she said and squeezed his fingers.

'Fuck off,' Mycroft grunted but didn't remove his hand. About a minute or two of silence passed before Mycroft sighed. 'We haven't... Gregory hasn't bottomed for me yet. I haven't... penetrated him.'

Anthea's eyebrows rose quickly. 'You haven't fucked him?!' she practically shouted.

'Shh!' Mycroft hissed and twisted in his seat. Thankfully, he couldn't see Maggie through the kitchen window or back door. 'Gregory's mother's in the house, Anthea!'

Anthea brushed his words aside. 'Are you kidding? Tell me you're lying, Myc.'

'I'm not. Why's it so hard to believe?'

''Cause, like I said, you _like_ being on top. And Greg likes being on the bottom. Why haven't you fucked him yet?'

Mycroft shrugged.

'No, don't ignore me,' Anthea scowled. 'Tell me the truth, Mycroft. Do you just want to submit to Greg, or something?'

'No,' Mycroft said softly.

'Then what?'

'Why do you want to know?'

'I just wanna know if there's a problem or something,' Anthea said. 'I don't like seeing you unhappy, Mycroft.'

Mycroft sighed. 'I _am_ happy,' he said honestly. 'It's just...' He chewed on his lip some more and finished his cigarette, lighting another quickly before speaking again. 'Gregory made an observation about me, about my sex life. I took it under consideration, so the first time we had... _that_ type of sex, I wanted him to top.

'It was... brilliant,' he admitted, 'and it still is. So... we've just kind of fallen into the pattern of Gregory topping. I _want_ to... fuck him, don't get me wrong,' Mycroft said. 'But... all my past experiences have been so horrible. What if fucking Gregory's the same? What if it ruins our sex life, and our relationship falls apart because of it? We have a good sex life _now_ , we should we change it and destroy what we have?'

He took a long drag of his cigarette when he was done, blowing smoke above both their heads. Anthea was silent as she processed Mycroft's words and just stared at the boy as he smoked, his own eyes directed at some vague spot across the yard.

When Anthea finally spoke, all she said was, 'That's horse shit.'

Mycroft turned to her, eyebrows going up.

'Complete and utter fucking _crap_ , Mycroft,' she added.

'Excuse me?'

'Don't get me wrong; I completely understand why you're worried,' Anthea continued. 'But I seriously doubt swapping positions will affect your sex life _that_ much. Hell, you prefer topping, Greg prefers bottoming; if anything, your sex life will get better.'

'Anthea-'

'And if it doesn't, so what?' Anthea cut Mycroft off. 'If you try it and it's bad, you go back to the way things are now. Like you said, it's brilliant; that won't change just because you tried and failed a sexual position.'

Mycroft sucked back on his fag.

'Seriously, Mycroft,' Anthea said, leaning across the table to squeeze his hand again. 'You and Greg love each other. One bad sex act isn't going to change that.'

Mycroft felt his face and neck flush. 'Um... l-love?'

Anthea smirked. 'You seriously thought I didn't know?'

'It's not like I've said it out-loud.'

'You love him, and you have since... I dunno, September?' Anthea said. 'The years before that were just a crush; you didn't know him properly. But this? How you are together, in a proper relationship? That's love, Mycroft.'

Mycroft was silent as he let her words sink in, and Anthea lit her own cigarette, waiting. Finally Mycroft cleared his throat and offered her a soft, warm smile.

'I _do_ love him,' he admitted quietly.

'I know,' Anthea beamed. 'And he loves you too.'

'You can't know that.'

'Don't fight me, Mikey, I'll kick your arse!' Anthea vowed. Mycroft snorted, but didn't disagree. He was pretty certain Anthea _could_ kick his arse. She was a ninja, he was sure of it.

They lapsed into silence as they smoked, just staring out across the backyard. The sun was still trying valiantly to break through the clouds, but the clouds were winning, as usual, and it was already growing a bit chilly. Mycroft didn't fancy going back inside, though. He liked the fresh air, and he liked sitting with Anthea and just talking, smoking, having fun like they used to; before Gregory, before Siger kicked Mycroft out, before everything. Mycroft wouldn't change anything in his life, but he did miss spending time with Anthea.

'We have to do this more often,' he said.

'Damn right we do,' Anthea nodded. 'Tell your boyfriend you need some best friend time with yours truly.'

'I'm sure he'll take it well,' Mycroft chuckled.

'He gets you all day and night,' the girl said. 'He can go spend time with Dimmock or something.'

'I'll tell him,' Mycroft promised. He stubbed his cigarette out and turned back to Anthea's homework.

'It'll be fine, Myc,' Anthea said. 'Trust me.'

Mycroft nodded and, without looking up, said a soft, 'Thank you.'

'No worries.'

'Now let's get back to your homework.'

Anthea threw her top half across the table, almost knocking over the ashtray bucket they were using, as well as their drinks. ' _Wwwwhy_?' she whined. 'Can't you do it for me, Mikey-boo?'

'No.'

'Come on _.'_

'No.'

_'_ Come _onnn_.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes. Yep, she was _exactly_ like Gregory.

'Did you see that new episode of _Dexter_?' Anthea asked.

'You know I don't watch that show,' Mycroft said. He pointed his pencil at her. 'Stop trying to change the subject.'

'But homework's _boring_ ,' she complained.

'It's necessary to pass high school,' Mycroft replied. 'Now, I've written down what you got wrong, and why, so all you have to do is rub out your answers and put mine in.'

Anthea was silent for a few seconds before asking, 'So does Greg spit or swallow?'

Mycroft groaned and thumped his head against the table.

'Hey, Sally wants to know too, it's not just me!'

He was surrounded by children.


	82. Song for the Lonely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Song for the Lonely by The Living End

**I've been told- ORDERED- to give Mycroft some free time to hang out with you. So... you get every second Sunday and one afternoon each week. How's that sound? - Greg**

  
  


_ONE WEEKDAY? Tell me you're joking, Gregory, or I'll be forced to kill you - Anthea_

  
  


**Come on, Mycroft's already setting aside Saturdays for Sherlock, I usually work two or three times a week, and there's homework and house work and shit. Every second Sunday and one weekday afternoon's fair.**

  
  


_It is not. Try again - A_

  
  


**No. Take it or leave it.**

  
  


_You spend EVERY DAY with him! - A_

  
  


**And I'd like to keep it that way. BTW, is it just a Holmesian thing to sign all your fucking messages with the first letter of your name?**

  
  


_Did Mycroft decide this or did you? 'Cause if you did, you're an arsehole. And yes, it's a Holmesian thing, and I've been living with the Holmeses since I was about eight, so I'm a default Holmes. I'm surprised you don't do it; you're practically a Holmes now - A_

  
  


**We actually did discuss it, 'cause we're, you know, IN A RELATIONSHIP. With grown-up talks and everything. No, I refuse, you know who I fucking am, it's called Caller ID.**

  
  


_So Mycroft said one weekday afternoon and every second Sunday? Caller IDs lie, Gregory. Besides, it's unique - A_

  
  


**Yes. We like our weekends to ourselves, but he misses hanging out with you, and I don't want you two to drift apart because of me. And he's a fucking busy thing, so take an afternoon a week. He's got his businesses to take care of, Sherlock, me, housework, all that crap. It's not unique, it's WEIRD.**

  
  


_Fine, I accept. What weekday afternoon do I get? It's not weird, shut up - A_

  
  


**I dunno, he said you can decide. FYI, I usually work Tuesdays and Thursdays, so Thursday afternoon would be good for him. YOU SHUT UP!**

  
  


_Fine, I'll take Thursdays. We can do awesome stuff he can't do with you 'cause you're a dick - A_

  
  


**Pleasure doing business with you, Miss Lander.**

  
  


_The pleasure was all mine, Mr Lestrade - A_

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


**DIMMO! What's happening, buddy?**

  
  


_What do you want?_

  
  


**Why do you assume I want something?**

  
  


_'Cause I've known you since we were four._

  
  


**Fine. Mycroft's spending every Thursday afternoon and second Sunday with Anthea- girlie bonding time, I dunno. So you and me; we're doing stuff those days... if I don't work.**

  
  


_Right. Did you ever think that maybe I'm busy those days?_

  
  


**No.**

  
  


_So as soon as your boyfriend's busy, you wanna hang out with me? I feel the love, Greg._

  
  


**Nooo, it's not like that! Okay, it's a bit like that. But Anthea's right; she and Mycroft were drifting apart, not spending enough time together, and we aren't either. We gotta get some best buddy time.**

  
  


_Sometimes- very rarely- I forget just how gay you are._

  
  


**I owe you a punch to the face, 'kay?**

  
  


_I'll make a note._

  
  


**So...**

  
  


_Yes, fine. If I don't have shit going on those days I'll make time for my best gay pal._

  
  


**YAY! You've made me the happiest girl in the whole wide kingdom.**

  
  


_Fuck off, Lestrade._

  
  


**Back at ya, Dimmock.**

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


**There, you've got your stupid plans with stupid Anthea.**

  
  


_What days? - M_

  
  


**Thursday afternoons and every second Sunday.**

  
  


_Good - M_

  
  


**Not good; annoying.**

  
  


_We spend every day together, Gregory dear - M_

  
  


**Yeah, well, you're awesome, Mycroft darling.**

  
  


_We'll still see each other at home. And school. And every other day of the week - M_

  
  


**Yeah...**

  
  


_You realise there's only one more week of school left, yes? We'll be spending most of the holidays together - M_

  
  


**I'd honestly forgotten that. FUCK YEEEAAAH!**

  
  


_When are you getting home? - M_

  
  


**Got another two hours yet. I'm on my smoke break.**

  
  


_I hate you - M_

  
  


**I hate you too.**

  
  


_Don't work too hard - M_

  
  


**I won't, promise.**

  
  


_Thank you - M_

  
  


**For what?**

  
  


_Helping me make the time to spend with Anthea, and Sherlock too. Thank you - M_

  
  


**No worries. We shouldn't spend ALL our time together.**

  
  


_Yes we should - M_

  
  


**We REALLY should. I love it.**

  
  


_Me too - M_

  
  


**Gotta go. See ya when I get home, love xx**

  
  


_I can't wait - M x_

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'I hate Anthea.'

Dimmock rolled his eyes. He and Greg were sitting in McDonalds. Greg had done most of his holiday homework already- Mycroft had really been a good influence in regards to school work- and Dimmock was planning on doing his with Molly over the Christmas holidays.

There weren't any good movies on at the theatre, neither really wanted to spend the afternoon Christmas shopping, and their significant others were busy; Mycroft hanging out with Anthea, Molly decorating the house with her twin.

The holidays started in two days and the teenagers were already bored.

But Dimmock supposed that Greg wouldn't be bored if he was with Mycroft, and Dimmock could find tonnes of things to do with Molly. Maybe they'd just... grown apart?

'You know, you were right,' Dimmock commented over his fries. Greg looked up from his tray of nuggets. 'We've barely spent any time together since you hooked up with Mycroft.'

'We _really_ haven't,' Greg nodded.

'We used to have fun, didn't we?' Dimmock asked.

Greg shrugged one shoulder. 'I suppose,' he said. 'But you spent a lot of time with Molly, and I fucked around with Joe and Dylan.'

'Yeah... sorry about that,' Dimmock apologised. He hadn't planned to blow off his friends to spend time with Molly, but it had happened.

'Nah, s'cool,' Greg shrugged again. 'Besides, I did the same thing with Mycroft. I can see how hanging with Molly would be heaps more fun than sitting in the Tesco carpark with Joe and Dylan.'

'What did we used to _do_?' Dimmock asked.

'Sit around the Tesco carpark with Joe and Dylan,' Greg repeated, smirking. 'And we thought we were fuckin' cool.'

'You're still not cool.'

'Hey!' Greg pointed a nugget at him and Dimmock snickered. 'I get fantastic fucking sex on a regular basis with a gorgeous man. I'm awesome!'

'I get regular sex and _don't_ brag about it,' Dimmock said. 'So I'm... awesomer.'

'The fact that you said awesomer means that you're a douche,' Greg replied.

Dimmock threw a chip at his best friend, and it landed on his jacket. Greg just grinned and ate it, making Dimmock roll his eyes.

'I'm sure we can think of something to do,' Dimmock commented as he sipped his drink. 'Molly's probably having a good time.'

'She's decorating with _Lily_ ,' Greg snorted. 'She's probably debating the best way to kill her twin sister and leave no evidence.'

'If anyone can do it, it's Molly,' Dimmock said.

'It's a good thing she loves us.'

'She loves _me_ ,' Dimmock shook his head. 'You? She tolerates.'

'Nah-ah.'

'Yah-ah.'

'You're wrong,' Greg said. 'I'll call her and get her to say she loves me.'

'Go on, do it,' Dimmock goaded. 'You know how Lily gets about her decorating getting interrupted.

Never one to back down from a challenge, Greg shoved the rest of his nugget into his mouth and pulled out his mobile. He tapped at the touch-screen until he found Molly's number and pressed the little green phone icon.

'You're gonna get it,' Dimmock grinned.

Greg just rolled his eyes and waited until Molly picked up.

' _What the fudging fudge, Greg?_ ' Lily answered instead of Molly. _'We're bloody decorating here!_ ' Greg opened his mouth, but Lily continued before he could get a word out. ' _Frickin' Aussie- that goes_ there _not_ there _! Geez, didn't they teach you how to decorate Down Under?_ '

Greg heard Alex shout something along the lines of, ' _I'll kill you with my bare hands, Hooper!_ ' before Lily was talking again.

' _Dimmock's with you, isn't he? Did he tell you it was okay to call Molly? I'm gonna kill him and hide his body. They won't find any evidence, I'll convince Molly to help!_ '

Greg grinned and said, 'Dimmock _did_ tell me it was okay.'

'I did not!' Dimmock shouted, drawing the attention of the people sitting closest to them. 'Greg!'

'He _totally_ did, Sunshine,' Greg continued. 'I wanted to see how my favourite girls were, and Dimmock told me to call you 'cause you were just sittin' at home all by yourselves.'

' _What a lying bitch,_ ' Lily sounded offended. ' _Tell Dimmock I'm gonna smack him when I see him._ '

'Lily's gonna smack you,' Greg told Dimmock.

'Christ,' Dimmock groaned. 'I'm gonna text Molly.' He whipped his phone out and started tapping at the screen, making Greg snicker.

'Lily's got her phone,' Greg told him.

Dimmock swore.

' _Are you missing your boyfriend, Greg?_ ' Lily asked. ' _Is that why you're calling? Dimmock told us Mycroft's having a girls day with Anthea._ '

'Yeah,' Greg sighed. 'I mean, no! I can function without him.' Lily giggled. 'I can,' Greg whined.

' _Sure you can, Gherkin._ '

'I- Gherkin?'

' _'Cause you're sweet, like gherkins_ ,' Lily said. ' _I could call you Pickles, but I think Gherkin sounds better_.'

Greg frowned. 'Gherkins aren't sweet.'

' _Then what the hell have I been eating?_ ' Lily asked.

'Um... well, some of them are sweet,' Greg corrected himself. 'Dill gherkins, which is what McDonalds uses, aren't sweet... those smaller, really green ones you can buy are sweeter. In America they're always called pickles, 'cause they're, like, pickled cucumbers. You can buy gherkins that've been sweetened, but they have more sugar, and I don't like them. I don't like that weird pickle chutney you can get either.'

There was silence on the other end, and Dimmock was giving him a weird look. Finally, Lily cleared her throat. ' _Why the hell do you know that much about gherkins?_ '

Greg felt himself blush and mumbled, 'I like 'em...'

' _Okay..._ ' Lily hummed, ' _anywho, I gotta go. Give Dimmock a punch for me._ '

'Fine,' Greg sighed. 'Seeya later, Lil.'

' _Get him to tell you about our Christmas party,_ ' Lily said before hanging up.

Greg frowned and dropped his phone onto the table. 'What Christmas party?'

'Seriously, you have a problem if you know _that_ much about gherkins,' Dimmock snorted, not looking up from his mobile.

'Shut up, I was bored and trolling the internet,' Greg said and kicked him under the table. Dimmock just laughed. 'So, what Christmas party?' Greg repeated.

'Oh, right,' Dimmock nodded. 'Molly and Lily decided to have a Christmas party on the 23rd. And by that I mean _Lily_ decided to have a Christmas party on the 23rd, she bugged Molly, and Molly eventually caved in and said yes so Lily would release her pillows from prison.'

'Lily took her pillows hostage, huh?' Greg laughed.

'Mm, almost took Molly's Paramore CDs too,' Dimmock said. 'Before she realised Molly had all the music on her phone, her laptop, _and_ her mobile, so...'

'Is everyone invited to this party?' Greg asked.

Dimmock nodded and finally shoved his mobile back into his pocket. 'Lily said to invite everyone. I took that to mean me, you, Mycroft, Joe, Joe's girlfriend, Anthea, Sally, BJ... am I forgetting anyone?'

'Alex?'

'She and Lily are joined at the hip; of course Alex is coming,' Dimmock waved a chip. 'I think that's everyone.'

'So some type of Christmas party, then?'

'Mm,' Dimmock mumbled around his mouthful. 'Their parents are heading over to Andy's place to help set up for their annual family Christmas. They're staying the night and won't be back 'til about... ten or eleven the next day. So Molly said we can stay the night, we just gotta be outta the house by eight or nine.'

'Sounds awesome,' Greg hummed. 'I should text Mycroft and ask if he's busy.'

' _Or_ you could wait until you get home tonight,' Dimmock suggested.

Greg scowled at him. 'It's just a text! He's still _with_ Anthea, and that's what she wanted.'

Dimmock held his hands up. 'Don't blame me if Anthea gives you the evil eye.'

Greg rolled his eyes and texted Mycroft anyway.

  
  


**Molly and Lily are having a Christmas party the 23rd. We can stay the night, just gotta be outta the house by 8 or 9 the next morning. Wanna go?**

  
  


It was about five minutes later that he got a response.

  
  


_I confiscated Mycroft's phone after the sixth time he tried to call you. He said he can go if it starts late; he's spending the day with Sherlock. Talk to him when you get home, and for God's sake, you two really need to work on this co-dependency thing you have - A_

  
  


Greg blinked at the message before showing Dimmock, who snorted.

'See, Mycroft misses me too!' Greg said.

' _That's_ what you took from that message?' Dimmock demanded. 'Not the fact that Anthea nicked your boyfriend's phone because he's completely obsessed with you?'

'I'm completely obsessed with him, so... no harm done,' Greg shrugged.

'You two spend _way_ too much time together,' Dimmock snickered.

'We do not!' Greg pouted. 'Anyway, when does the party start?'

'Any time between five and eight,' Dimmock said. 'I can give you a lift if Mycroft's busy.'

Greg's pout deepened and he slumped in his seat.

'Let me guess,' Dimmock drawled, 'you're not coming if Mycroft's not?'

'I'll come,' Greg grumbled, 'Lily'd kill me if I didn't.'

'But you'll be completely bored and sulk all night 'cause your boyfriend's not there.'

'No, I'll be fun!' Greg said. 'Promise.'

'You'd better, or Lily'll have your head,' Dimmock said. Greg scowled. 'Finish your nuggets and let's go shopping.'

'I don't _wanna_ ,' Greg whined. 'I hate shopping.'

'Have you got anything for Mycroft yet?'

'Yeah,' Greg huffed. 'So _there_.'

'What about your mum?'

Greg blinked before cursing. 'Goddamn it.'

'I gotta get something for Molly, and you can help,' Dimmock said.

'How can _I_ help?'

'You're gay, aren't you? Give me some good advice on a shirt or a skirt.'

Greg snorted. 'Slap a stereotype on me, Dimmo. You'd have better luck with Mycroft; he always dresses well.'

'And so do you, don't deny it,' Dimmock said. 'You always match your jeans and shirts, as well as your bloody shoes and jewellery.'

Greg swore again.

'Exactly,' Dimmock grinned smugly. 'So eat up and let's go shopping.'

'I hate you.'

'I love you too.'

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Shopping wasn't as annoying as Greg had thought it'd be. There were still people everywhere, and Greg pushed more than one teenage girl aside when grabbing a piece of clothing he thought Molly would like. Eventually Dimmock bought her a short black skirt, stockings, a black shirt, and a black jacket, all of it matching, as well as perfumes and bath products. Greg thought it was a bit impersonal, but she was Dimmock's girlfriend, not his.

He eventually got home around seven to find Maggie nowhere to be seen and Mycroft decorating a plastic Christmas tree in the corner.

'Mum finally pulled that crap out, huh?' Greg asked. In the past Maggie had set everything up around the 5th.

'I got home three hours ago and your mother forced me to help decorate the house,' Mycroft complained. 'I tried to call you but she wouldn't let me. I think Anthea got to her.'

Greg snorted. He wouldn't put it past his mum to conspire with his mates. Rather than say anything, Greg tossed his coat over the back of the sofa and approached Mycroft. The red-head didn't turn until he felt Greg's arms wrap around his waist.

'I missed you,' Greg mumbled as Mycroft turned in his arms. His own hooked around Greg's neck and Greg sighed.

'I saw you six hours ago,' Mycroft reminded his boyfriend. 'And we spent all day at school together.'

' _No_ , we spent _half_ the day at the school together,' Greg corrected, pressing his face into Mycroft's neck. 'If you remember, you didn't have any classes after lunch so you left early to hang out with _Anthea_.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'I know you don't really hate her, Gregory.'

'I missed you,' was Greg's muffled answer.

Mycroft smiled softly and pressed a kiss to the side of Greg's head. 'I missed you too.' They stood in silence, just hugging, until Mycroft said, 'All our friends are right; we're too co-dependent.'

'Nah-ah.'

'Gregory, you missed me despite the fact we'd spent most of the day together,' Mycroft said. 'And _I_ tried to call you half a dozen times in an hour period before Anthea confiscated my mobile.'

'I'll kick her arse for you,' Greg said.

Mycroft snorted.

'Right, she'd probably kick my arse, yeah?' Greg asked. When Mycroft nodded against his head, Greg sighed. 'Enough talking about our friends.'

'What would you rather do?' Mycroft asked. 'I still have to help decorate, and no doubt Margaret will force you to help.'

'Nah, got something _much_ better we can do,' Greg said and drew back.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, but any words he might have said were stopped by Greg's slightly chapped lips against his own. Mycroft immediately melted into the kiss and tightened his hold on Greg's neck, drawing him closer.

They stood flush against each other as Greg slowly licked into Mycroft's mouth, not stopping until he felt something different.

'What?' Mycroft asked, breath slightly laboured.

'New tongue piercing?' Greg asked, eyebrows raised. Usually at school Mycroft wore a clear or pink tongue bar to hide the piercing from teachers. He didn't talk a lot, so nobody really noticed. At home he really only changed it for another dull colour to wear to bed. It was only when they went out that he wore one of his colourful ones. Greg's favourite was a ball that went atop the bar and was mostly black with red dots.

Mycroft nodded and opened his mouth. The bar was jet black and had a flat disk over the top that was mostly black, trimmed in silver, with the words “Fuck Me” written in red.

Greg's mouth dropped open and Mycroft wiggled his tongue a bit before closing his mouth. 'Anthea made me go shopping and I saw it. I figured you might like it.' He raised an eyebrow. 'Do you?'

'Fuck yes,' Greg groaned. 'Let's do that, right now.'

He tugged Mycroft forward and into another wet, sloppy kiss, Greg's tongue trying to map out the new tongue piercing, Mycroft chuckling into the kisses.

They stood snogging for a few minutes until Greg's hands started wandering; one to Mycroft's arse, squeezed into tight black skinny jeans, and the other creeping under Mycroft's _My Chemical Romance_ shirt.

Mycroft's hands were fisted in Greg's hair, twisting the soft strands as he tilted Greg's head this way and that, starting new kisses as soon as they broke apart.

Greg had just started backing Mycroft towards the hallway when Maggie burst into room from the kitchen carrying two boxes of Christmas decorations.

'Greg, good, you're home! You and Mycroft can reassure each other that the other was missed after you help me decorate.'

Greg groaned and broke away from Mycroft, but only far enough to re-bury his head against the taller boy's neck. 'I hate my mother,' he grumbled.

Mycroft chuckled as he tried to catch his breath and patted Greg's back.

'Come on,' Maggie said, walking further into the room until she could nudge the two teenagers with one of the boxes. 'Snog later, decorate now.'

'Have I mentioned lately how much I hate you?' Greg complained.

'Aww, sweetie, no you don't,' Maggie beamed. 'You love me because I gave birth to you, remember? Remember the twenty-three hours I was in labour because you were a stubborn git even in the womb?'

Greg groaned and pulled away from Mycroft. 'You pick the weirdest moments to remind me that I owe you my life.'

'I keep it for special occasions,' Maggie said, handing the box of tinsel across to Greg, the box of ornaments to Mycroft. 'Like birthdays and Mother's Day and Christmas- hey, look at that! It's Christmas! So go on, decorate.'

'You're a weirdo,' Greg grumbled.

'All I hear is, “I _will_ help you decorate the house, Mother, because you raised me all by yourself and you're the best mother _ever_ ”.'

Mycroft was trying to hide his laughter as he put bobbles onto the half-decorated tree, but he kept snorting and giggling whenever Maggie pulled out a long piece of tinsel and threw it at Greg. Greg scowled at him but quickly caved in and went to grab a chair from the kitchen.

Like every year, Greg and Maggie hung tinsel and other decorations around the sitting room, hallway, and kitchen. Mycroft busied himself making the tree perfect and finally finished when Maggie handed Greg a box of lights and told him to string them up outside.

Greg grumbled and cursed under his breath but did as asked, and in less than two hours- most of which was spent untangling the goddamn things- he and Mycroft had hung the lights outside, plugged them in, and turned them on.

The house was suddenly lit up with flashing lights in multiple colours, and Greg and Mycroft surveyed their work while Maggie put a wreath on the door.

'It looks beautiful, boys,' she smiled.

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg grumbled. 'I don't have to cook dinner, right?' Maggie had lifted his grounding the previous day after hearing that Mycroft wanted to spend more time with his best friend, and Greg wanted to do the same. Greg was still on kitchen duty, though, but he was tired and just wanted a shower and some food.

'No, I'll order in,' Maggie said. 'Pizza okay with you boys?'

'Pepperoni!' Greg shouted.

'Vegetarian!' Mycroft said at the same time.

The two scowled at each other.

'I'll get a half-and-half for you two to share,' Maggie chuckled. 'Go wash up, I'll order now.'

'Can we get garlic bread, too?' Greg asked.

'Fine,' Maggie said.

Greg pumped his first in the air and Mycroft snorted while leading the way back into the house.

The couple decided to share a shower to save time... and maybe touch each other, but they'd been apart for hours! When they re-joined Maggie they were wearing pyjamas and mostly sated. Greg told them about hanging out with Dimmock, while Mycroft shared what he and Anthea had done. They ate their dinner while watching _Jeeves and Wooster_ DVDS and were in bed by nine.

'It isn't so bad that we want to spend all our time together, is it?' Greg asked after they'd settled into bed. 'I mean, Dimmock and Molly spend most of their time together... then again, they don't _live_ together.'

'Anthea and Sally are the same,' Mycroft said. 'It's not like we _don't_ spend time with our friends. We hang out during and after school together. Sometimes you spend all of lunch with Dimmock, Joe and Benjamin while I go over homework with Sally. And I still see Sherlock regularly.'

'Exactly,' Greg nodded. 'We just like spending time together, is all.'

'And we get to touch each other,' Mycroft pointed out.

Greg snorted and tugged Mycroft closer, turning so Mycroft was the big spoon. He sighed when Mycroft pressed their bodies together and draped an arm over Greg's stomach.

'I missed you,' Greg said softly.

Mycroft kissed his neck. 'I missed you too.'

'I hate Anthea.'

'I know.'


	83. Shut Up/Kiss Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Shut Up/Kiss Me by Paul McDermott  & Fiona Horne

Greg groaned when he felt the bed shift, Mycroft getting up and cursing the cold weather. It was the last day of school and Greg would much rather stay burrowed under his mountain of blankets then get up and get dressed. Maggie only ever put the heater on when it was really cold and everybody was awake. When Greg had complained about the cold the night before, Maggie had told him to cuddle his boyfriend.

'Up, Gregory,' Mycroft yawned and pushed against Greg's blanket-covered head.

'Don't wanna,' Greg grumbled.

'It's the last day of school,' Mycroft reminded him. 'You can spend all day tomorrow in bed.'

'But it's Saturday tomorrow,' Greg said and rolled onto his stomach, face pressed into a pillow. 'You're spending the day with Sherlock.'

'So?'

'S'no fun spendin' all day in bed without my lover,' Greg told him.

Mycroft snorted. That was the only warning Greg got before the blankets were pulled back. He yelped as he was assaulted by cold air, goosebumps immediately rising across his arms and legs.

'You fucker!' Greg shouted as Mycroft tossed the blankets over the end of the bed.

'Get up and get dressed,' Mycroft said.

Greg groaned and looked at the alarm. 'It's seven o'clock, Mycroft!' he whined. 'It takes me, like, ten minutes to get ready! Just 'cause you take a bloody hour doesn't mean I do!'

'Some of us actually care about our appearance,' Mycroft sniffed.

'Some of us aren't as gay as you,' Greg muttered and crawled down the bed. He reached for the blankets but Mycroft grabbed them, making Greg whine.

'Get dressed,' the red-head said and dropped the blankets in the corner. He grabbed his uniform, which was hanging up in their shared wardrobe, and disappeared to take a shower.

'I hate you!' Greg shouted and slumped across the bed.

He spent a good ten minutes rolling around and cursing before giving up and standing. It was too cold for a shower, so Greg just threw on some fresh boxers and his uniform. His shirt and trousers were both on the floor by the desk, and Greg used his hands to try and smooth out the worst of the wrinkles. He wasn't an anal bastard like Mycroft, though, so he really didn't care if he looked a bit rumpled.

His socks and shoes went on next, because it was fucking cold, and he hooked one of Mycroft's dark blue scarves around his neck before leaving the bedroom. Mycroft was in the bathroom doing his hair, using some type of gel that came in a black jar, a brush, and his own hair-dryer to beat his slightly curly auburn hair into submission.

Greg stood watching for a few seconds before nudging Mycroft aside and looking at his own reflection. Mycroft rolled his eyes when Greg applied a bit of water to his hands and brushed his fingers through his hair. Greg flattened down the sides and back as best he could before spiking up the top, and nodded in satisfaction when he was done.

'You're lucky you have clear skin and nice hair,' Mycroft grumbled as he finally got his fringe to behave. It always curled whenever he didn't use product, and Mycroft hated it. Sherlock's hair was completely curly, and that look suited him. Mycroft wished his hair would do one or the other.

'I'm just awesome and beautiful,' Greg grinned. When he left the bathroom Mycroft was dabbing some type of cream onto his freckled skin, still cursing about bastard teenagers with clear skin.

Maggie had already left for an early shift at the hospital, but Greg decided to make scrambled eggs and bacon anyway. He also fried some tomatoes because Mycroft liked making sandwiches with his breakfast, and he was almost done by the time Mycroft joined him.

Mycroft's uniform was, of course, completely neat and tidy, and he draped his blazer over a chair as he started doing up his navy blue tie. He smiled when Greg dished up their breakfast and pressed a kiss to Greg's cheek.

'You need to shave,' he said, tilting his head when he pulled back.

Greg touched his chin with his index finger and noted the short hairs that had grown over the past two days. He'd never had to shave regularly. He knew Dimmock did, the other boy was always complaining about having to get up early and shave his face clean. Greg, on the other hand, could go two or three days before his stubble became really noticeable and the teachers told him to get rid of it.

'Yeah, well, it's the last day,' Greg shrugged and sat at the table. 'The teachers won't care.'

'I like it,' Mycroft smiled and slotted a few pieces of bread into the toaster.

'Do you know what _I_ like?' Greg asked, Mycroft looking at him. 'You either completely clean-shaven downstairs, or with proper hair. Seriously, Myc, it's giving me fucking rashes.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'I heard you the first time.'

'So do something about it,' Greg complained. 'Either way works for me, I'm just sick of getting itchy balls.'

'You're so charming,' Mycroft drawled.

'You love it,' Greg grinned.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


After breakfast, Mycroft cleaned up while Greg grabbed his own blazer and tie, letting Mycroft do it up as they stood by the front door. They both looped their scarves around their necks, and Greg made sure he had his wallet, phone and keys as Mycroft pulled his gloves on, before they left the house and made their way to Mycroft's Jag.

The drive to school was mostly spent bickering about what music to play. Mycroft wanted to listen to My Chemical Romance, while Greg was going through an AC/DC phase and wanted to listen to _Highway To Hell_ over and over again.

By the time they got to school, they'd settled on My Chemical Romance- well, Mycroft had told Greg that since _he_ was driving _he_ got to decide what they listened to, and Greg pouted and whined but his boyfriend ignored him. They were only halfway through _The End_ from _The Black Parade_ when Mycroft parked, and Greg grinned and poked his tongue out.

'You're a child,' Mycroft said and climbed out of the car.

'But you love it,' was Greg's response, a cheeky smile pulling at his lips when Mycroft scowled at him.

The red-head locked his car, flipped Greg off, and stomped off towards the smokers' corner.

'Wait up!' Greg shouted.

'No!' Mycroft replied.

'I'm sorry,' Greg said and jogged to catch up to his partner. 'We'll listen to MCR on the drive home, 'kay?'

'I'm taking Sherlock to the dentist,' Mycroft reminded the brunette. 'So you have to find your own way home, remember?'

Greg groaned. 'Right, right.'

'I'd offer for you to join us, but-'

'Sherlock'll complain about your brother-bonding time getting interrupted, I know,' Greg cut in. 'S'fine, I'll just... see if anyone else is busy. That or I'll go home, eat a tub of ice-cream, and cry.'

'Always knew you were a girl, Lestrade,' BJ said, having heard the end of Greg's sentence when Greg and Mycroft rounded the corner.

'Fuck you, Benjamin,' Greg said and stuck his middle finger up.

BJ just snickered and took another drag of his smoke. He was alone, leaning against the brick wall with his mobile in one hand, cigarette in the other. He seemed to be texting someone important, because he had a small smile on his face whenever his phone pinged.

'Who you messaging?' Greg asked as he pulled his smokes out. 'Your boyfriend?'

'Your insults get better and better, Greg,' BJ snorted. 'I'm texting Wendy.'

'Who the fuck is Wendy?' Greg asked.

'Adrienne's best friend,' Mycroft told him, lighting a cigarette and blowing smoke above their heads. At Greg's blank look, Mycroft added, 'Joe's girlfriend, Adrienne.'

'Oh, Age, right,' Greg nodded. 'Wait, is Wendy the one who has a crush on you?' Greg asked BJ.

BJ nodded.

'Ooh, BJ, hooking up with your mate's girlfriend's best friend?' Greg grinned.

'She's the one who liked _me_ first,' BJ reminded him.

'So you like her?' Greg asked, waggling his eyebrows.

BJ shrugged one shoulder and muttered, 'She's cool.'

Greg laughed but didn't say anything. BJ had had his fair share of girlfriends over the years, never lasting more than two or three weeks. Sally had been his longest relationship, and even that had only been four weeks, all of which the two had spent either arguing, ignoring each other, or snogging at parties.

Greg realised that, if BJ grew some balls and asked Wendy out, everyone in the group would have a significant other. Well, except Lily and Alex, but they were so close they were practically a couple, only without the shagging. Greg didn't know if Alex was straight, gay, bi, or asexual, and Lily had never had a boyfriend, but she seemed to love everybody. If Greg knew any other guys or girls he'd totally set them up, but he had a feeling Lily would murder him for even thinking it. And Alex... Alex was quiet, so she was probably secretly a serial killer.

Greg shivered and Mycroft grabbed his arm, dragging the shorter boy towards him.

'What?' Greg asked.

'You're shivering, are you cold?'

Greg blinked. 'Um... sure,' he said and leaned against Mycroft's warm chest, one of Mycroft's arms wrapping around his waist. Saying he was cold was better than telling Mycroft he'd been imagining Lily and Alex killing him. Mycroft thought he was weird enough as it was.

'Wendy's coming to the Hooper Christmas party,' BJ informed the couple. He pouted his cigarette at Greg. 'No funny business, Lestrade.'

'Me? Why do you assume _I'd_ do something?' Greg asked. 'I'd watch out for Lily if I was you.'

BJ frowned. 'She scares me.'

Mycroft snorted, while Greg said, 'She scares everyone, mate. Welcome to the club.'

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg hated teachers who made you work even on the last day of school. He also hated that he had every one of his goddamn subjects, with only one free period after lunch.

Miss Latta, his PE teacher, had made them read two entire chapters of their PE textbook and answer a bunch of questions in their two-period lesson, and Mr Westen had made them all review all the crap they'd learned the past semester just in case they didn't know what homework they had to do over the holidays. Greg had bitched and moaned the entire lesson, making Dimmock and BJ snort, and Mr Westen give him the evil eye for the entire hour.

Biology with Mrs Cameron followed, but she was cool and stuck on an old video of _The Lion King_ (Greg _so_ did not cry when Mufasa died, and he'd deny it until his own death), before, thankfully, lunch rolled around.

Greg was starving despite the big breakfast he and Mycroft had shared, and pushed and shoved his way through the various students to buy some food from the canteen. It was cold, so he got some instant noodles, a packet of crisps, and a bottle of lemonade before going in search of his friends.

Most students were trying to cram themselves into the library or heated classrooms, all shivering and moaning about the amount of people in said classrooms. Greg passed them all and headed for the carpark, where he found his friends sitting at their usual picnic table huddled together and shivering.

'Why the hell aren't we in a classroom?' Sally demanded.

'We're not stopping you!' Joe snapped.

'Give me some of your scarf,' BJ complained and moved closer to Joe.

'You two look incredibly gay right now,' Greg informed them as he approached. All three of their eyes zeroed in on his steaming cup of noodles and Greg scowled. 'Get your own.'

They moaned and went back to fighting amongst themselves, leaving Greg free to sit between Mycroft and Dimmock.

'Hey, I was using him for warmth!' Dimmock complained.

'Get your own boyfriend and use him,' Greg retorted and snuggled into Mycroft's side. 'Mm, warm.'

'Share your noodles and I'll let you use me,' Mycroft said.

Greg grinned. 'Deal.'

The group fell into conversation, mostly talking about the upcoming Hooper Christmas party, as well as when they were going to find time to shop for their Secret Santa Christmas presents. Lily had texted the group the day before to inform them that she'd suddenly decided to have a Secret Santa, and if anybody turned up without a present and _didn't_ have a good excuse, she'd kill them.

So most people were going to buy a present.

Greg had gotten Anthea, and he was sure Lily was working with the other girl to ruin his life. It wasn't that he hated Anthea, he just barely knew her, _and_ she was stealing his Mycroft time. So he was allowed to act a bit jealous, wasn't he?

'Just buy her some type of bath product,' Mycroft told him for the tenth time. He held out the little fork that had come with Greg's noodles and Greg opened his mouth obediently, letting Mycroft feed him.

'You two are disgusting,' Joe complained.

Greg flipped him off and asked Mycroft, 'Are you sure?'

'She enjoys bubble baths,' Mycroft nodded, 'so any bath-related product you get her she'll like. And you can get packs that aren't too expensive at most shops. If you can't find any, get her a CD. She likes Jack's Mannequin, Jimmy Eat World, and Metallica.'

'How am I supposed to know what CD to get?' Greg demanded.

'I'll text you what she has and doesn't have if you decide to get her a CD,' Mycroft said.

'Cool, I'll go tomorrow,' Greg sighed, glad to get that over with. Now he just had to actually _buy_ bath products or a CD. Fuck, he hated shopping. 'I still haven't got Mum a present.'

'I'm getting her something tomorrow,' Mycroft told his boyfriend. When Greg raised an eyebrow, Mycroft elaborated. 'Sherlock called me yesterday and said he has to find John the perfect Christmas present because it's their first Christmas as boyfriends. So I've been roped into helping him because I have a boyfriend.'

'It's _our_ first Christmas together, too,' Greg pointed out.

'I already got your present,' Mycroft said.

Grinning, Greg slid closer. 'Really? Does it involve you naked? 'Cause I gotta tell you, I'd _love_ that.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes while the rest of the group wrinkled their noses and told him to shut it (or, in Sally's case, asked for details).

'I could be convinced to get naked on Christmas day,' Mycroft smirked at his boyfriend.

'I'm good at convincing,' Greg grinned and leaned forward to kiss the red-head.

'Anyone got a hose?' BJ demanded. 'We gotta spray 'em with something, make 'em stop snogging all the bloody time.'

'It's hot, leave them alone,' Sally said.

'Don't be a pervert, Donovan,' Greg told her when he and Mycroft broke apart.

'Stop making out in public and I'll stop watching you, Lestrade,' Sally retorted.

'Can't, he's too gorgeous,' Greg said and kissed Mycroft again.

'Does this mean I can have their noodles?' BJ asked and reached for the half-empty cup.

Mycroft slapped his hand and pulled away from Greg. 'No.'

BJ groaned as Mycroft and Greg went back to feeding each other.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mr Jambrook turned out to be one of the cool teachers. He made sure they all knew what homework they had to complete over the Christmas break before putting on a DVD of _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix._ The class mostly talked amongst themselves and ate whatever snacks they had stuffed in their bags, while a few watched the movie and commented on their favourite parts.

Greg and Mycroft were sitting up the back in their usual spot, and Mr Jambrook had taken the desk before them and was looking over paperwork, a blue felt-tip pen in his hand.

'This is my favourite part,' Greg told Mycroft.

'Why?' Mycroft asked.

'Hello! Lucius Malfoy,' Greg hummed. 'I _love_ Jason Isaacs.'

'So I've heard,' Mycroft laughed softly.

'Just look at him,' Greg whispered, staring at the screen. It was still early in the movie, the scene where Harry had to go to the Ministry of Magic for his trial, and Lucius Malfoy was talking to the Minister of Magic. Greg sighed when the scene quickly moved on. 'Lucius Malfoy isn't in this movie _nearly_ enough... or the other movies, come to think of it.'

'He's in the end of this movie, if I remember correctly,' Mycroft said.

'Mm,' Greg nodded. 'And Sirius Black punches him in the face. _That_ didn't happen in the book.'

'Now I feel like reading the books,' Mycroft said and tossed a crisp into his mouth. He'd bought two bags of crisps at lunch, salt and vinegar and barbecue, and he and Greg were munching on both as they watched the movie. Greg also had popcorn, and Mycroft had _no_ idea where he'd got that from. The bastard wouldn't share any.

'We should have a Harry Potter movie marathon sometime next week,' Greg said.

'I'll agree to that if you give me some popcorn.'

Greg groaned. 'Fine,' he said and handed the bag to his boyfriend.

'Where'd you even get popcorn?' Mycroft asked as he grabbed a handful.

'I have many secrets,' Greg said and waggled his fingers.

'You're an idiot.'

'But you love me,' Greg winked.

'I don't know _why_.'

''Cause I'm sexy?'

'Hmm... no, I don't think it's that,' Mycroft hummed.

Greg pouted. 'I'm totally sexy.'

'If you say so,' Mycroft smirked.

'I am!' Greg whined. 'I get you off, don't I?'

'Not that this conversation isn't _fascinating_ ,' a new voice joined their conversation, making both teenagers freeze, 'but I _really_ don't need to hear it, thanks.'

Mycroft blushed bright red while Greg wet his lips. 'Sorry, Mr Jambrook,' the brunette murmured, looking at anything but his teacher.

Mr Jambrook smirked, said, 'Thank you,' and turned back to his paperwork.

'He knows _way_ too much about our sex life,' Greg grumbled in Mycroft's ear, thinking about Mr Jambrook taking the dirty notes they'd been writing to each other.

'That was your fault,' Mycroft said, 'and so is this.'

'Is not.'

'Is too.'

'See if you get any with that attitude,' Greg huffed.

'Lestrade,' Mr Jambrook sighed and turned around, 'really, can you keep your voice down? Just a little bit?'

'Fuck,' Greg groaned. Mycroft snickered, and even Mr Jambrook smirked. 'Sorry, sorry,' Greg mumbled. 'I promise, no more talking about my sex life.'

'Gregory!' Mycroft hissed and thumped him in the arm.

'Ow, what?' Greg whined.

'Just shut up and eat your popcorn,' Mycroft said and thrust the bag at him.

Greg took it and scowled when Mr Jambrook laughed. 'Shut up,' he huffed.


	84. Hey Julie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Hey Julie by Fountains Of Wayne
> 
>  **Author's Note:** Sorry about the long wait, peeps, but you know how real life is. I also only just realised that it's my birthday tomorrow and I've wasted half of 2013. I still have no job and therefore no money. Anywho, I hope you enjoy the chapter.
> 
> {Dreamer}

Saturday morning started much like Friday morning had; Mycroft got up, waking Greg in the process, and proceeded to steal the blankets so Greg had no choice but to get up. It was already ten and Mycroft was picking Sherlock up at ten-thirty. Greg was meeting Sally at the shopping centre at eleven to shop for Christmas presents, and despite Sherlock's bitching, Mycroft was giving both of them a lift.

Sally didn't have a car and it was too cold and wet for Greg to take his bike out. Plus, they couldn't carry shopping bags on a motorbike, at least not comfortably without shit flying off. So Mycroft would be dropping them off and picking them up.

Mycroft coaxed Greg into the shower with light touches and dirty kisses, and Greg was panting a minute after stepping under the spray, Mycroft's body pressed against his, the taller boy's hand wrapped around both their cocks. After bringing them both to a quick release, Mycroft washed them both, Greg little more than jelly leaning against the shower wall.

They both skipped breakfast (Greg was _so_ in the mood for a greasy McMuffin and hash-browns), already running late, and Maggie waved to them as they hurried through the door. It was raining, much to Greg's annoyance, and he bitched and complained as Mycroft unlocked the door.

'You're _so_ charming in the morning,' Mycroft commented as he drove, My Chemical Romance drifting from the speakers.

'Shut up,' Greg yawned. 'It's Saturday and I should be sleeping.'

'You're the one who decided to go shopping with Sally while I spend the day with Sherlock,' Mycroft reminded his boyfriend.

'Shut up,' Greg repeated and leaned heavily against the window. 'I need coffee.'

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg got his coffee and greasy breakfast from McDonalds after Mycroft picked up Sally, then Sherlock. Sally and Sherlock fought in the back seat over who got the last hash-brown, and Greg could already feel a headache building.

When Mycroft parked his Jag, he turned and gave Greg a soft kiss. 'It's just a bit of shopping. Don't stress out too much, and if you feel sick, call me.'

'I'll be fine,' Greg said. 'Just take Sherlock before I hit him.'

'I'll slap you into next week, Lestrade,' Sherlock warned as he hopped out of the car.

'Bring it on, bitch,' Greg retorted.

Sherlock launched himself at Greg and managed to get in a kick and a slap (Greg pinched the younger boy's cheeks and pulled his hair) before Mycroft and Sally dragged them off each other.

'Honestly, what are you, four?' Mycroft demanded.

'He started it!' Greg snapped.

'Gregory, you're seventeen-years-old!' Mycroft growled. Greg glared at him and Sherlock snickered. 'And Sherlock, you're thirteen!' Mycroft rounded on his brother. 'Act like it!'

'It's Lestrade's fault, he's an idiot,' Sherlock said.

'Sherlock,' Mycroft scowled, 'apologise, right now- the both of you- or I'll take you home.'

Greg and Sherlock grumbled at each other until Mycroft threatened to tell Sherlock about his sex life, and cut Greg off; then they both practically shouted “sorry!” at each other.

'Good,' Mycroft sighed and pecked Greg on the cheek. 'You behave.'

'Yes, sir,' Greg grumbled.

'Sally, I'll see you and Gregory here at three,' Mycroft said.

Sally nodded and the four parted ways.

'Sherlock's a bitch,' Greg grumbled.

Sally snorted. 'Whatever you say, Lestrade. Now come on, I need new boots.'

' _Shoe shopping_?' Greg groaned as Sally tugged him inside. 'This is why I'm gay, so I don't have to go shoe shopping with girls!'

'Yeah, and I'm sure all the cock has nothing to do with it,' Sally snorted, scaring a group of women walking past them.

'You're gonna get us chucked out,' Greg warned, 'and then what will I give your girlfriend for Secret Santa?'

'Just shut up and follow me, Greg,' Sally ordered.

'Not like I have a choice,' Greg mumbled, looking down at where Sally had a firm grip on his wrist. He groaned inwardly; it was going to be a long day.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Sally dragged Greg to three shoe stores, a clothing store, _and_ some place that sold nail polish before she agreed to stop for lunch. Greg grumbled the entire time, and continued to do so over his kebab.

'What were you expecting when you invited me?' Sally asked.

'I dunno,' Greg shrugged, 'I've never been shopping with a girl before... well, besides my mum, and we only go to Tesco.' Sally snorted. 'I just need your help getting something for Anthea,' Greg continued. 'Mycroft suggested a CD or bath products.'

'She'd like that,' Sally nodded, munching on her salad. 'She wants a Jack's Mannequin CD, and you can throw some bubble bath or something into a bag with it.'

'Good, then we're going to a music store after lunch; no more shoes, got it?'

'Yes, sir,' Sally saluted, smirking when Greg glared at her. 'Anyway, let's talk about something else.'

'Like what?' Greg asked.

'What's Mycroft like in bed?'

Greg almost inhaled a pickle and coughed, Sally laughing as he tried to clear his throat. He took a long chug of his Coke and scowled at her. 'Sally!'

'What?'

'I'm _not_ talking about my sex life with you.'

'Why not?' Sally pouted.

'First of all, 'cause it's private,' Greg said, pointing a finger at her. 'Second of all, Mycroft will kill me if he finds out.'

'You are _so_ whipped,' Sally giggled and popped a piece of bacon into her mouth.

'Shut it and pick another subject.'

'Come _onn_ ,' Sally begged. 'I'll tell you what Anthea's like in bed.'

Greg raised both eyebrows. 'Why the hell would I want to hear about that?'

'Dunno,' Sally shrugged. 'Blackmail material?'

Greg snorted. 'I doubt anything fazes Anthea.'

'True,' Sally nodded. 'So no deal?'

'No deal,' Greg echoed with a head shake.

'Damn it,' Sally cursed. 'At least tell me how big he is?'

'Jesus, Sally, you need to get a hobby,' Greg said, 'or watch some TV, read a book, do _something_.'

'I don't wanna.'

'Shut up and eat your salad.'

'Yes, sir,' Sally beamed. Greg rolled his eyes. 'After this we'll go to the music store, I promise,' she added. 'And then I wanna check that store we passed, it had cute tops.'

Greg groaned.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg was _never_ going shopping with Sally again. She was constantly distracted by pretty shirts or jeans, new nail polish and shoes, and even stopped to look in a small _candle store_. Candles, for fuck's sake! Greg was going to strangle her, he really was.

They finally reached the music store and Greg would have bolted if he didn't need Sally. He had no idea what Jack's Mannequin was, or what CD Anthea wanted, so he trailed behind the curly-haired girl as they browsed the shelves of CDs.

'Ooh, AC/DC,' Greg hummed and grabbed _Back In Black_. He had a few of the songs, but not the complete album. Mycroft had _T.N.T_ and _Highway To Hell_ , and Greg had been listening to them a fair bit lately while doing his homework. 'I'm grabbing this,' he decided and searched through the rest of the CDs.

'We're here for Anthea, Greg,' Sally reminded him.

'Well grab the CD she wants,' Greg retorted. 'I don't even know what Jack's Mannequin is.'

'It's a band... sort of,' Sally said. 'Mainly one dude who writes and sings all the songs, and plays keyboard.'

'Whatever,' Greg waved a hand dismissively. 'Just grab the CD and let's go check out the DVDs.'

'I'll do that right now if you tell me something about Mycroft,' Sally said.

Greg groaned and turned to face her. ' _Why_?' he demanded. 'You're happy with Anthea, aren't you?'

''Course I am,' Sally said.

'So why the hell do you want to know about my sex life?' Greg asked.

Sally shrugged. 'Curious.'

'I'm not telling you anything; get that through your head!' Greg snapped.

'Just tell me if Mycroft spits or swallows,' Sally said and grinned when Greg whirled around, face red. Annoying Lestrade was always _so_ much fun.

'I am _not_ telling you what my boyfriend looks like when he's giving me a blow job!' Greg shouted at Sally.

'This is becoming a habit, Gregory.'

Greg groaned and Sally put a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter as Greg turned and came face-to-face with Mr Jambrook.

'Mr Jambrook, sir... er, hello,' Greg said weakly.

'Greg,' the teacher smiled.

'Um... so... what's up?' Greg asked.

'Nothing much,' Mr Jambrook said. 'I'm just shopping for Christmas.'

'Er, right... us-us too,' Greg stuttered.

'I can see that,' the older man said and looked at the CD Greg was holding. ' _Back In Black_ ; good album.'

'Ah...' Greg looked down too.

' _The Razor's Edge_ is a good CD too, as well as most of their other ones,' Mr Jambrook continued. 'But _Back In Black_ is my favourite.'

'Right,' Greg swallowed.

'Hi, Mr Jambrook,' Sally said and sidled up to Greg's side. Greg glared at her. 'How are you today, sir?'

'Fine, thank you, Sally,' Mr Jambrook said to her.

'Tony!'

Greg and Sally looked past Mr Jambrook as the teacher turned to see another guy approaching them. He was about thirty, Greg would guess, with dirty-blonde hair and honey-brown eyes. He stopped beside Mr Jambrook and handed him a CD.

'Oh, so this is what she wants?' Mr Jambrook asked, turning the CD around to read the song listing.

'Yeah, she'll be fine with that,' the man nodded. He looked at Greg and Sally.

'Er... hello,' Greg tried, while Sally smiled brightly at him.

'Hi,' the guy replied and looked at Mr Jambrook.

'Right, sorry,' the teacher said and gestured at Greg and Sally. 'These are two of my students; Greg and Sally.

'Hello,' Greg repeated.

'Nice to meet you,' Sally said.

'This is my boyfriend, Nathan,' Mr Jambrook said, a light blush colouring his cheeks.

Greg smiled and Sally formed an O with her mouth.

'Right, well...' Mr Jambrook cleared his throat. 'So, yes, we're just doing some Christmas shopping,' he repeated.

'Yeah...' Sally trailed off.

'Right,' Mr Jambrook nodded. He looked uncomfortable and was shifting from foot-to-foot. Greg couldn't blame him; he had _no_ idea what to do in a situation like this either.

'Well, I'm going to go look at the DVDs,' Nathan said, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen. 'Come find me when you're done, Tony,' he said and squeezed his partner's hand before walking away.

Greg, Sally and Mr Jambrook watched him go. Greg had to admit, the guy was pretty cute.

'I didn't know your name was Tony,' Sally settled on saying.

'Short for Anthony, obviously,' Mr Jambrook said. 'So, uh...'

'This is awkward,' Greg cut in and the other two nodded. 'We're just gonna... um, go,' he continued, and Mr Jambrook nodded again. 'Have a nice Christmas, sir.'

'You too,' Mr Jambrook said and turned, quickly walking down the aisle.

'I didn't know he was gay, either,' Sally said. 'Shame... he's cute.'

'He told me and Mycroft after catching us snogging once,' Greg said, ignoring Sally's apparent attraction to their English Lit teacher.

'His boyfriend's cute, too.'

Greg rolled his eyes. 'Let's just get Anthea's CD and go, okay?'

'Aye, aye,' Sally said and saluted, laughing when Greg scowled and stomped off. He was _never_ going shopping with Sally Donovan again. And if he did, he would strangle her with his bare hands!

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mycroft raised an eyebrow when he found Greg and Sally sitting against his Jaguar in the car park.

'Are you okay?' he asked Greg.

'I hate Sally, I hate shopping, I hate _everything_ ,' Greg complained.

'Poor Lestrade,' Sherlock rolled his eyes.

'Fuck off, Sherlock, I'm _so_ not in the mood,' Greg said as he stood. It was then that he noticed John Watson standing between him and Mycroft. 'Hello, John.'

'Hi,' John waved.

'We ran into John and he's staying at the Manor tonight, so I'll drive both him and Sherlock over before driving you to work,' Mycroft explained. He held up one of the plastic bags he was carrying. 'I got Chinese for dinner.'

'Thank God, I'm starving,' Greg said. He turned to point at Sally. 'You're not invited!'

'Oh, you've gone and hurt my feelings,' Sally pouted dramatically. 'Don't worry, Lestrade, I'm having dinner with Anthea, alright?'

'Good,' Greg grumbled. 'I don't want to see you at all until Lily's party. And maybe not even then.'

'You're such a girl,' Sally laughed as Mycroft unlocked his car.

'Seriously, girls are insane,' Greg complained. 'I hate them all!'

'It's lucky you're gay, then,' Mycroft smiled. They all climbed into the car, Sherlock and Greg fighting over the front seat until Mycroft ordered that Sherlock get into the back. Greg grinned triumphantly and kissed his boyfriend, making Sherlock sulk and John have to kiss him to calm him down.

Mycroft let Greg play his new AC/DC CD as he drove Sally home, and Sherlock complained loudly between each song about how it was _screeching_ not _music_. Nobody paid him any attention.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'God, I hate work,' Greg groaned and stretched. He felt exhausted from all the shopping- Sally was insane, he was sure of it- and he still had work at five. Thankfully it was only a five-hour shift, opposed to an eight-hour one, but still... Greg wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with Chinese food and watch DVDs all night.

Mycroft smirked. 'I already said I'd pick you up.'

'I finish at ten,' Greg complained, 'that's five hours, Mycroft! Christmas makes people crazy.'

'And remember we have to do shopping for Christmas dinner next week,' Mycroft reminded him. Greg groaned. 'But we don't have to do that until tomorrow, and we're having dinner at Doctor Phil's, so you don't have to cook.'

'Oh, I'll have to cook,' Greg said. 'Mum says my gravy's the best she's ever had. So I'll make that. Then I'll notice that Mum isn't preparing the potato bake properly, so I'll have to cook that too. Doctor Phil's cooking the chicken and meat, and I'll end up throwing a salad together and probably a pasta salad too, not to mention dessert. Mum likes my banana cake.'

'Poor Gregory,' Mycroft hummed and reached out to run his fingers through Greg's hair.

'That's right, you _should_ feel sorry for me,' Greg grumbled.

Mycroft snorted. 'I'll help, okay? Just stop complaining.'

'Yes, Lestrade, you're annoying us all,' Sherlock said from the back seat.

'Don't start,' John sighed.

Mycroft parked on the street and the group carried their various bags into the house. Maggie came out of the kitchen and said, 'Oh, hello Sherlock, John.'

'Hello, Ms Lestrade,' John said and nudged his boyfriend. Sherlock mumbled a hello under his breath.

'Is it okay if Sherlock and John stay for dinner?' Mycroft asked. 'I'll drive them to the Manor when I take Gregory to work.'

'That's fine,' Maggie nodded.

'We got Chinese for dinner,' Greg said and handed the bag across.

'Why don't you go put your stuff away?' Maggie suggested. 'I'll set dinner up.'

The boys nodded and all trekked into Greg and Mycroft's room. The couple dumped their bags while Sherlock and John peeled off their coats, scarves, and shoes. They all walked back into the kitchen to find Maggie setting plates on the table and stacking containers of food in the middle.

'Thank you for letting us stay, Ms Lestrade,' John said politely.

'No worries, dear,' Maggie smiled.

'Just leave me some to take to work,' Greg said. 'I like having a snack during my break.'

'What exactly do you do?' Sherlock asked.

'I stack shelves and unload the delivery trucks at Tesco,' Greg replied. 'Easier than working at the registers. I hate people.'

Sherlock eyed him before saying, 'Me too,' and grabbing the packet of spring rolls Mycroft had just put on the table.

'Sherlock, leave some for everyone else,' Mycroft scolded when his brother crammed an entire spring roll into his mouth.

Sherlock scowled but put the packet back on the table, letting Greg and John grab two each. They fell into silence as everyone helped themselves; Greg and Sherlock fought over the satay prawns, while Maggie had most of the prawn omelette to herself.

Mycroft and John shared the curry chicken and sweet and sour pork, while the entire group fought over the fried rice and prawn chips. Mycroft had to play the adult with the prawn cocktails and scowled when his brother licked one of the wedges of lemon.

Sherlock just grinned.


	85. Hey There Delilah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Hey There Delilah by the Plain White T's

Lily's party couldn't come quickly enough. Greg had worked almost every day of the week leading up to the party, and the days he _was_ off Mycroft was either with Anthea or Sherlock. He and Mycroft hadn't had sex in six days, not even any hand jobs or groping! Greg was having withdrawals, he was sure of it, and as soon as everyone fell asleep at the party, Greg was fucking his boyfriend.

'Have you got everything?' Maggie asked. Greg was standing by the door with his school bag. He had a pair of pyjamas, his smokes hidden beneath a few DVDs Lily had told him to bring, as well as condoms and lube (they only ever used condoms when they were having sex in public or at someone else's place). He was fucking Mycroft at some point tonight, his friends be damned.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Mycroft's got a blanket in his car. We'll probably crash on the sofa.'

'Okay, you two be good,' Maggie said and kissed Greg's forehead.

'Yes, Mum,' Greg rolled his eyes but smiled as Maggie shooed him out the door.

Mycroft was waking back up the driveway, and kissed Greg's cheek before looking at Maggie. 'I forgot to mention something,' he said, his tone making Maggie frown.

'What is it?'

'Well, uh... my mother invited us to a party at Holmes Manor tomorrow night,' Mycroft said. 'I got the invitation about a week or so ago, I just... wasn't sure I wanted to go.'

'I have work until eight that night,' Maggie frowned.

'Oh, well, that's fine,' Mycroft said quickly. 'Forget I said anything.'

'Wait, do _you_ wanna go?' Greg asked. Mycroft looked at him. ''Cause we can go.' Mycroft just shrugged and Maggie looked between the two.

'How about you sleep on it and decide tomorrow?' Maggie suggested.

Mycroft nodded, said a quick goodbye, and hurried to the car.

'He didn't tell you?' Maggie asked her son.

'Sherlock mentioned that their mum wanted him to go about a week or two ago,' Greg said. 'I didn't know he'd got an invitation.' He stared across the lawn until Mycroft beeped the horn, then kissed his mum on the cheek and hurried down the driveway. 'You okay?' he asked when he climbed into the car.

'Fine,' Mycroft said.

'We can go if you-'

'Can I sleep on it?' Mycroft sighed, staring out the windscreen. 'I'm just... really not sure I _want_ to go.'

'Okay,' Greg nodded. 'Um, you got the alcohol?'

'A bottle of Jack Daniels and a six pack of beer,' Mycroft said. 'I'm looking forward to tonight.'

Mycroft had spent most of the day with Sherlock, but the younger Holmes had gone home early complaining of a migraine, leaving Mycroft free to drive himself and Greg to Molly's house.

The drive was silent, both teenagers lost in thought. Greg didn't care what decision Mycroft eventually made; he'd go to the party if his boyfriend wanted. If not, they could sit in bed and eat ice-cream. Whatever Mycroft wanted, Greg would be cool with.

  


{oOo}

  


They were the last to arrive; Lily was already dancing around the Christmas tree, Sally and Anthea curled up on one of the armchairs together, Joe, BJ, Age, and a girl Greg assumed was Wendy sitting on the floor around the coffee table, and Dimmock sprawled across the sofa.

Molly answered the door and hugged both of them before leading them to her room so they could dump their stuff. When they got back, Lily jumped about and said, 'Secret Santa time!'

Everybody knew better than to argue with Lily, so they all got their presents out, and Mycroft grabbed a beer for Greg after pouring himself a J.D. and Coke.

The group chatted as they exchanged gifts. Greg's was from BJ, and he laughed when he opened the bag to find a box of condoms, a bottle of lubricant, and a gay porn DVD. 'Where the fuck did you buy these?' Greg asked. 'And is there footage of you paying for them?'

'Shut up, fuck-face,' BJ said. 'I'm sexy, alright? Heaps of guys were eyeing me at the store.'

'Sure they were,' Greg rolled his eyes. 'Thanks, anyway. Saves me ten quid.'

Mycroft an assortment of nail polishes from Joe, who mumbled about seeing Mycroft having worn nail polish in the past. Mycroft thanked him with a smile and sat to start painting his nails. Suddenly half the group wanted their nails done, and they all grabbed bottles and sat on the floor. Greg held his hand out and Mycroft painted his nails red and black, while Joe and BJ complained about being the only manly men in the house.

Mycroft had got Alex as his Secret Santa, and she was easy to shop for; he bought her _Angels & Demons _by Dan Brown, because she'd read _The Da Vinci Code_ and _The Lost Symbol_ , but not the first book in the trilogy. Mycroft had said all of that to Greg, and Greg had only understood the words _The Da Vinci Code_ , and then proceeded to make fun of Tom Hanks' hair in the movie. Mycroft had hit him with a pillow and refused to put out, teaching Greg that if he made fun of books, he'd have no sex life.

Everybody chatted and exchanged stories about their week, and after three beers each, Joe and BJ realised that getting their nails painted wouldn't make them any less manly, and Age and Wendy giggled to each other as they painted BJ's nails bright pink and Joe's purple.

Greg and Mycroft were sitting near the fire place, which Molly and Lily both refused to light, knowing that there was a good chance someone would light themselves or the house on fire when more alcohol was consumed. He looked around the room at his friends, all of them sitting beside someone that made them smile.

He grinned to himself and Lily, sitting on one side of him- Mycroft was on the other- asked, 'What're you grinning stupidly about?'

'Everyone's got someone,' Greg shrugged, 'and everyone's awesome.'

'It's true, I _am_ awesome,' Lily nodded.

Greg laughed. 'We just gotta hook you and Alex up with someone, and we'll all have a partner,' he said.

Lily shrugged, 'I'm not exactly looking. If I meet someone, cool. If not, it doesn't matter to me.'

Greg nodded; he could understand that. He looked at Alex, who was sitting beside Lily. 'What about you?'

'I'm demisexual,' Alex replied without looking up from _Angels & Demons_.

Greg frowned in confusion, while Mycroft said, 'Oh, I didn't know that.'

'What's demni... uh... that thing?' BJ asked.

'Well, do you know what asexuality is?' Lily asked BJ.

'Uh...' BJ hummed.

'Not attracted to people,' Greg told him.

'Oh, right.'

'Basically,' Lily nodded, 'but there are heaps of different types of asexuals. Like, some enjoy masturbating and sex, they just aren't attracted sexually to other people. While some don't like any type of sexual contact, even masturbation, and-'

'Yes, Lil, we get it,' Greg cut in. 'What's demisexual?'

'It's kind of like asexuality, just a bit different,' Alex took over, looking up at them slowly. 'I don't experience sexual attraction unless I form a strong emotional relationship with someone. For example, I don't find any of you attractive sexually,' she said and looked around, 'but if I grow close to one specific person, I may eventually find them attractive, both their looks and personality, and want to have sex. It's happened before, the relationship just didn't work out.'

Silence descended, everyone processing that, while Alex went back to her book.

Finally Greg said, 'Huh. I've never heard of that before.'

'Me either,' Dimmock commented. 'Well, not until Alex told us.'

'I knew someone online who saw themselves as demisexual,' Mycroft commented. 'So I did a bit of research.'

'I'm pansexual,' Wendy piped up and all eyes turned to her. 'Just thought I'd throw that in there.'

'What's pansexual?' Joe asked.

'I'm attracted to people, not gender,' Wendy said. 'I'm attracted to people's personality. They can be the hottest person alive according to everyone else, but I couldn't care less if I don't like their personality. It's a bit like bisexuality, but I don't care about the gender of the person.'

'Then why the hell are you with BJ?' Greg asked and both teenagers blushed. 'He's not good-looking and he doesn't have an interesting personality.'

'I think he does,' Wendy mumbled.

'And we're not together,' BJ added.

Greg snorted. 'Sure you're not.'

'Leave them alone, Gregory,' Mycroft chastised. Greg poked his tongue out.

'Anyway, we've almost got the entire rainbow,' Greg grinned. 'We need to get an asexual friend, then someone who's trangender. Are there any other sexualities out there we've missed?'

'Oh, there are _so_ many grey areas in sexuality,' Mycroft hummed. 'Semisexual can be another term to describe someone who's demisexual, and of course there's the whole Grey Area.'

'Grey Area?' Greg questioned.

Mycroft smiled and kissed Greg's cheek. 'Don't worry about it. Just look online later if you're still interested.'

'I spent _ages_ on the internet trying to find out what demisexual was when Alex first told me,' Lily said. 'There's a cool website that has lots of information, I can't remember what it's called.'

'Asexuality dot org,' Alex said, her attention mostly focused on her book.

'That one,' Lily nodded and pointed at the Australian.

'It has information about the sexualities Mycroft just mentioned,' Alex added.

'I think I'll just smile and nod if anyone uses those words when I talk to them,' Joe commented.

'Knowledge is power, Joe Wright!' Lily said- well, shouted. 'And knowledge is understanding, which makes people comfortable with you, which makes people _like_ you, so-'

'Okay, everyone keep Sunshine away from the high-sugar snacks and alcohol,' Dimmock interrupted.

'Excuse you!' Lily huffed. 'I'm insane even without sugar and alcohol, thank you very much.' The group laughed. 'But enough about me,' the younger Hooper continued. 'Let's play some games!'

Everybody exchanged uneasy glances; who knew what Lily would come up with.

'Oh, come on,' the girl pouted when she saw their looks. 'Just a few exchanges of words. I'm not gonna ask you all to get naked and run around outside, jeez.' She paused and grinned. ' _Although_ -'

'No,' Molly and Alex both said at the same time.

'Party poopers,' Lily pouted. 'Anywho, I'll go first; weirdest place you've had sex- Alex, put the book away, you're being anti-social!'

Alex ignored her until Lily tugged the book free and tossed it across the room. Alex scowled, but seemed too lazy to get up and get it, so sighed, leaned against the armchair behind her, and sipped her beer.

'Okay, weirdest place you've had sex,' Lily repeated, ' _aaand_... go!'

Everyone looked around again before Greg decided to go first. 'Do blow jobs count as sex?' he asked. ''Cause I got one on a school trip once. We hid on the bus while everyone went inside.'

'Oh God, was it Andy?' Molly groaned.

'How the hell did you know?' Greg demanded.

'You told me someone gave you a blow job on a bus, and Andy told Molly he gave someone a blow job on a bus,' Dimmock said. 'Not hard to put together, Greg.'

'Are you serious; that's the weirdest place?' Sally snorted. 'Beat this, Lestrade; police station.'

'You had sex with someone in a police station?' half the group demanded.

Sally nodded. 'Remember that party at Matt Sanders' house about a year ago that was busted up by the cops?' BJ, Greg, and Dimmock all nodded. 'I was caught and hauled in. I was let go with a slap on the wrist, but they had me in a holding cell with another girl from the party. We were a bit sloshed, and... well...' she grinned and took a sip of her Smirnoff, the others staring at her.

'Wow, Donovan, that beats me,' Greg finally said.

'Damn right it does,' Sally beamed. 'Go on, BJ, you next.'

BJ sighed and looked around. 'Okay, it wasn't a weird place so much as... just really freaky for me, okay? I went to visit my grandparents and this smoking hot chick lived next door. She practically pounced on me when I was reading in the attic- that's where me and my brother sleep when we stay over- and we had sex.'

'That's not so weird,' Joe hummed.

'It is when at dinner that night your grandmother asks if you remembered a condom,' BJ grumbled.

Greg cracked up laughing and Dimmock joined him, the two slouching against each other and clutching their stomachs. BJ scowled at them and Sally and Anthea giggled together, while both Molly and Mycroft looked at their partners with fond amusement.

'Anyway, someone else say something,' BJ snapped.

'Well, I'm a virgin, so unfortunately no sex stories,' Wendy said and smiled at the group. 'But my little brother caught me snogging a guy in my bedroom and ran around the house shouting, “Wendy has a boyfriend, Wendy has a boyfriend!” and my dad spent the entire night teasing me about it.'

'That's _nothing_ compared to my mum,' Greg complained. 'She's constantly bringing up my sex life- _and_ she told Doctor Phil that me and Mycroft don't use condoms.'

'You don't use condoms?' Joe asked. 'For shame, Greggie, what have you been taught about safe sex?'

'It's not like we can get each other pregnant, douchebag!' Greg snapped and threw a pillow at him. Joe caught it and grinned. 'We're both clean, we don't need to use 'em.'

'Okay, stop fighting, girls,' Mycroft said and pulled Greg closer towards him. Greg poked his tongue out at Joe, who clutched his chest and acted wounded. 'The weirdest place I've had sex was a garden shed.'

'John Ralling, right?' Greg asked. 'I remember Dimmo telling me about that.'

'Mm,' Mycroft nodded, sipping his bourbon. 'I hope he's better with Andy; he wasn't very good when I shagged him.'

'Well, Andy seems to think he's okay,' Molly said, 'he's always blushing and mumbling about how good John is when we talk about it.'

'Practice makes perfect, I suppose,' Mycroft shrugged.

'Okay, let's stop talking about John Ralling,' Greg grumbled, scowling when his boyfriend smiled at him.

'Aww, look at Greg getting all jealous,' Dimmock teased and poked Greg in the side.

'Fuck off,' Greg huffed and slapped him over the back of the head. Dimmock just smirked. 'Your turn, Dimmo.'

'Um... I haven't really had sex anywhere weird,' Dimmock shrugged. 'Just in bedrooms.'

'You're _so_ boring,' Greg groaned.

'I just know how to keep my dick in my trousers, Greg,' Dimmock said.

'Moving on,' Molly said before they could start fighting again. 'I'm the same as Michael; I've only ever had sex in a bedroom.'

'I had sex in my sister's bedroom,' Joe chimed in. 'In my defence, I'd run out of condoms, and I know where my sister keeps hers.'

'Did she catch you?' Sally asked. 'Please tell me she caught you.'

'No,' Joe shook his head and Sally pouted. 'But she found a used condom in her bin and spent an entire week throwing cold water at me to wake me up.'

Greg and Dimmock both burst into laughter again, each imagining Joe's sister, Natalie, pouring cold water over her brother's head and grinning as he woke up spluttering.

'Why am I friends with you two?' Joe demanded as Greg and Dimmock continued to laugh.

''Cause we're awesome,' Dimmock grinned.

'And gorgeous,' Greg added.

'You're _so_ full of yourselves,' Joe rolled his eyes.

'Anyway,' Lily hummed and turned to Age, 'any interesting story?'

'Um... well, I once had sex on a trampoline,' Age admitted. 'Does that count as weird?'

'Definitely,' Lily nodded.

'Ooh, was it bouncy?' Greg demanded. ''Cause that sounds _awesome_.'

'It was alright,' Age shrugged. 'Though my boyfriend at the time, Dan, burned his knees a bit and wouldn't stop whining for days afterwards.' She smiled and turned to Anthea. 'Your turn.'

'Movie theatre,' Anthea said. 'Back row.'

'Ooh, kinky,' Greg grinned.

'Sexy,' Joe said and BJ nodded in agreement. 'Two girls, yes please.'

'Not all of us fantasise about that, Benjamin,' Mycroft said, nose wrinkled.

'If it was two guys you'd be drooling,' BJ pointed out.

Mycroft tilted his head as he thought. 'Actually, I've fooled around in a movie theatre before.' He turned and grinned at Greg. 'Remember?'

Greg blinked a bit before a grin spread across his face. 'Oh yeah, I remember that.'

Joe groaned. 'Wait, was that when we all went to the movies and you two were eating each other's faces?' The couple nodded. 'Jesus Christ.'

'I remember that,' BJ laughed. 'I warned you that they'd be all over each other.'

'Yeah, does it really surprise you?' Dimmock asked.

Joe just groaned again and shook his head as he downed the rest of the beer. 'Who wants another one?' he asked as he stood. Greg and BJ both raised their hands and Joe disappeared into the kitchen.

'So that's everyone except you, Sunshine,' Greg said, turning to Lily. 'What's your story?'

'Never had sex, got no story,' Lily grinned.

'So you made us all tell embarrassing stories and _you_ aren't even contributing?' Greg asked. Lily nodded, her grin widening. 'You fucking-'

'If that sentence doesn't end with “awesome person”, I will smite you!' Lily threatened.

'Have you been watching _Supernatural_ again?' Alex demanded.

Lily turned to smile at her best friend. 'Damn right I have! I need a weekly dose of Destiel.'

'You have an unhealthy obsession,' Alex commented.

'Hey, you love Destiel too!' Lily said and pointed a finger at the other girl. 'You fangirl just as much as I do!'

'I do it quietly,' Alex said.

'What the hell is Destiel?' Greg asked. He was familiar with the show, but hadn't watched it himself.

'Dean and Castiel, together, sexing each other up,' Lily said. 'Don't you watch _Supernatural_?' When Greg shook his head, Lily tisked and whipped her mobile out. 'Just you wait until you see Misha Collins,' the girl said.

A few minutes later, Greg and Lily were drooling over a picture of Misha Collins, the actor who played the angel Castiel.

'He's sexy, right?' Sally said from beside Greg.

'Oh yeah,' Greg nodded. He looked up at Mycroft. 'We're buying _Supernatural_ on DVD.'

'Yes, dear,' Mycroft replied.

Dimmock snorted into his beer but put on an innocent face when Greg glared at him.

'Castiel isn't in the show until season four,' Lily told Greg. 'But don't you _dare_ skip the first three seasons just to get to him.'

'Why not?' Greg whined.

''Cause you can stare at the actors who play Dean and Sam,' Lily said and tapped at her phone until she brought up another picture.

'Oh God, yes,' Greg grinned. 'Fuck, is everyone in the show super sexy?'

'Yup,' Lily smiled. 'You can borrow my DVDs if you want. But so help me, Gregory Lestrade, if you hurt them-'

'You'll smite me- yeah, I got it,' Greg interrupted. He crawled across the carpet back to his boyfriend and sat beside him. 'Now I'm horny,' he groaned.

'Thanks for sharing that with the class, Greg,' BJ said while Mycroft snorted.

'I have needs,' Greg said. 'And Mycroft's bloody gorgeous, what am I supposed to do?'

'Keep it to yourself?' Joe suggested.

'Hey, he _never_ gives out details,' Sally said. 'I tried and tried when we went shopping but he wouldn't tell me a thing.'

'Neither would Mycroft,' Anthea said. 'I tried my hardest.'

'It's private,' Mycroft told her. 'Knowing we have sex and going into detail are two completely different things.'

'Exactly,' Greg nodded and took a swig of beer.

Sally rolled her eyes, and BJ said, 'Enough talking about their sex life; got any other games you're not gonna contribute to, Hooper?'

'Um...' Lily hummed, head tilted as she thought. 'No, all I'm thinking about is Destiel going at it.'

'Anyone got any games?' BJ asked. Everyone just stared blankly. 'We could play strip poker.'

'No,' Mycroft replied immediately. Greg looked at him. 'Nobody but me is allowed to see you naked,' Mycroft told his boyfriend.

Greg grinned. 'Ooh, I love it when you get all jealous and possessive.' He pressed a sloppy kiss to Mycroft's lips, and half the group booed, while the other half leaned closer to get a good look. 'Hey, Alex brought her guitar,' Greg remembered when he and Mycroft broke apart. 'Why don't you play us a few songs?'

Mycroft sighed when various people cheered, but agreed when Alex said he could use her guitar. The two disappeared and came back with the acoustic, Mycroft sitting on the sofa and strumming a bit to see if the instrument was in tune.

'Good guitar,' he commented, and Alex said thanks. 'Where'd you get it?'

'One of my dad's friends was selling it, got it for thirty quid,' Alex told him.

'Good bargain,' Mycroft said. He twisted two of the tuners until he seemed satisfied, and then strummed all the strings. 'Any requests?' he asked.

'What can you play?' BJ asked.

'A fair few songs,' Mycroft said.

'Play that one you were learning the other day,' Greg said. 'You know, um... it had a lot of picking and stuff...'

'That's helpful,' Mycroft snorted. He tilted his head as he thought back, plucking randomly at the strings. 'Oh, was it _Hey There Delilah_ by the Plain White T's?' he asked.

'Uh... I dunno,' Greg shrugged.

Mycroft smiled and moved his fingers over the frets before he started picking, and Greg nodded.

'That's the one.'

Mycroft plucked a few times before he started singing; 'Hey there, Delilah, what's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty, yes you _doo..._ Time Square can't shine as bright as you, I swear it's true...'

'I _love_ this song,' Molly said. She knew the words, and sang the next bit instead of Mycroft, making the red-head smile; 'Hey there, Delilah, don't you worry about the distance, I'm right there if you get lonely, give this song another listen, close your _eeyes_... listen to my voice, it's my disguise... I'm by your _siiide_...'

'Ooh, it's what you do to _meee_ , ooh, it's what you do to _meee_...' Mycroft sang the chorus, repeating himself over his soft plucking. 'Ooh, it's what you do to _meee..._ ooh, it's what you do to _mee_ , what you do to _mee_...'

Mycroft and Molly took turns singing, their voices blending together softly over the chorus, and the entire group sat quietly watching and listening, those familiar with the song humming under their breath.

Mycroft caught Greg's eye, and Greg smiled as his boyfriend sang the next part to him.

'A thousand miles seems pretty far, but they've got planes and trains and cars, I'd walk to you if I had no other _waay_...'

'Damn right you would,' Greg commented and Mycroft chuckled.

'Our friends would all make fun of us, and we'll just laugh along because, we know that none of them have felt this _waay_...' Mycroft continued. 'Delilah, I can promise you, that by the time that we get through, the WORLD will never, ever be the _saame_ , and you're to _blaame_...'

Molly took over, singing quietly, and Mycroft kept his eyes on Greg, not once looking as his fingers moved up and down the frets of the guitar, expertly picking the strings with his right fingers.

'Ooh, it's what you do to _mee_ ,' Mycroft sang to Greg, 'ooh, it's what you do to _mee_...' Greg grinned. 'Ooh, it's what you do to _mee_ , ooh, it's what you do to _mee_...'

The song ended soon after, Mycroft strumming the last chord, and the group clapped and whistled. Mycroft blushed and finally looked away from Greg, but accept the kiss Greg planted against his cheek.

'That was awesome,' he said.

'Thank you,' Mycroft replied, a warm smile tugging at his lips. Greg grinned in return.

'Stop having eye sex,' Dimmock grumbled.

Greg threw a pillow at him.

'Can you play _Don't You Think It's Time_ by Bob Evans?' Wendy asked. 'I love that song.'

'I don't have a capo,' Mycroft apologised. 'I could play it higher up on the guitar, but it never sounds the same.'

'That's okay,' Wendy said.

'What the hell's a capo?' Dimmock asked.

'It goes on the neck of the guitar,' Greg answered. He'd seen Mycroft use one before, and the red-head had explained it's use to him. 'It makes the strings sound... like, higher, or something...'

'I would have brought mine if I knew there was going to be a guitar,' Mycroft said.

He started strumming gently on the guitar, staring vaguely across the room as he did. Greg and the others watched as his left hand formed chords, his right fingers picking or his thumb and index finger strumming. Mycroft didn't look at the guitar once, his muscles completely familiar and able to form the chords without any real input from Mycroft. Greg found it amazingly arousing.

Mycroft didn't sing as he started playing, a song that was soft and equal parts strumming and picking. He hummed a bit halfway through, but mostly just played gently, filling the room with a soft, warm song. His eyes were still trained on the wall, apparently not even aware he was playing, and Greg had to stop himself from jumping the genius and rutting against him. This was why musicians got all the guys and girls; it was fucking sexy when someone could play an instrument.

When Mycroft eventually stopped, the last chord ringing through the room, he blinked suddenly and looked around. 'Um...'

'What was that?' Molly asked.

'Just... nothing, really,' Mycroft shrugged, his cheeks turning pink. 'I made it up,' he admitted.

'You wrote that?' Greg said. When Mycroft nodded, Greg groaned. 'Fuck, and here I thought you couldn't get any sexier.'

'Jesus Christ, Greg, go fuck already,' BJ grumbled.

'I wanna see him play some more,' Greg said. 'Get me real hot and bothered.'

BJ snorted and shook his head, taking a long swig of his beer. Greg just grinned and turned back to his boyfriend.

'Hey, can you play that song?' Greg asked. 'You know, the first thing you played for me?'

Mycroft smiled and said, ' _A Lonely September_ by the Plain White T's.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. It had become one of his favourites after Mycroft played it for him. He still remembered sitting in Mycroft's secret room, the red-head staring at him as he sang, “ _And I didn't mean to fall in love, but I did._ ”

Mycroft's smile widened a bit before he moved his fingers and started playing the song, his voice warm and soft as he sang. The song sounded different without a pick, but still just as great, and Greg mouthed the lyrics as Mycroft sang. The others all started between the two, Dimmock and Molly exchanging smirks, Lily whispering that Alex would have to learn how to play the song, 'cause it was awesome.

'Well, I didn't mean for this to _gooo_ as far as it _diid_ ,' Mycroft sang, eyes completely focused on Greg, 'I didn't mean to get so _cloose_ , and share what we _diid_... and I didn't mean to fall in _loove_ , but I _diid_... and you didn't mean to love me back, but I know you _diid_...'

The song was just as cool as the first time Greg had heard it, Mycroft still playing it perfectly, his voice complimenting the instrument. He stared at Greg with the same intensity, too, and Greg shivered.

'And I didn't mean to meet you _theen_ , when we were just _kiids_... and I didn't mean to give you _chiills_... the way that I _kiiss_... and I didn't mean to fall in _looove_ , but I _diiid_... and you didn't mean to love me back, but I know you _diiid_...'

Greg licked his lips, eyes flicking between Mycroft's eyes, his lips, his hands, and back up again. He was twitching on the sofa as Mycroft played, and had a hard time not ravishing Mycroft, their friends be damned.

'Don't say you didn't love me back, 'cause you know you _diid_... no you didn't mean to love me back, but you _diid..._ '

When Mycroft finished Greg couldn't contain himself any longer. He surged across the sofa and pulled Mycroft into a passionate kiss, Mycroft's mouth falling open in surprise. Greg took the advantage and snaked his tongue in, and soon enough Mycroft was grunting and threading his fingers through Greg's hair, pulling the brunette closer.

'Okay, someone else take the guitar,' Greg vaguely heard Dimmock say. The instrument was lifted from Mycroft's hands but Greg didn't care; it just meant he could tug Mycroft closer and kiss him harder.

When they finally broke apart both were panting, and Greg really, _really_ wanted to drag Mycroft to bed and have his way with the younger boy. Unfortunately, Dimmock chose that moment to speak.

'When did Mycroft play that for you?'

'Uh...' Greg cleared his throat and closed his eyes as he tried to beat down the erection straining against his jeans. 'Couple months ago, before we started dating.'

Dimmock snorted a laugh and Molly tutted.

'What?' Greg asked, pulling away from his partner.

'He practically told you he was in love with you through a song and you didn't get it,' Dimmock shook his head. 'Can you get any thicker, Greg?'

'Shut up,' Greg huffed, blushing at the word _love_. He had a whole plan and Dimmock knew it; Greg didn't need his best friend ruining it. Greg coughed again and eased away from Mycroft, breathing out steadily as he beat his lust into submission. Alex was holding her guitar, picking at the strings distractedly, and Greg said, 'What can you play, Alex?'

'Um... _Disenchanted_ by My Chemical Romance?' Alex said. 'Obviously it sounds different 'cause I can't play the electric guitar at the same time, but it's still a fun song to play.' She paused. 'But I can't sing and play at the same time.'

'S'okay, I know the words,' Lily grinned.

'So do I,' Greg said and Mycroft nodded.

'Okay; you sing, I play,' Alex said and shifted about to get comfortable. She placed her left fingers on the correct strings before she started plucking. A few seconds later, Mycroft started singing.

'Well I was there on the day they sold the cause for the Queen, and when the lights all went out, we watched our lives on the screen. I hate the ending myself, but it started with an alright scene...'

'It was the roar of the crowd, that gave me heartache to sing!' Greg and Lily sang- well, shouted, really- and Alex snorted while Mycroft shook his head. 'It was a lie when they smiled, and said, “You won't feel a thing”! And as we ran from the cops... we laughed so hard it would _stiing_!'

The rest of the song went much the same way; Lily and Greg stood to sing together, arms thrown around each other's shoulders, while Alex played and laughed, the others all cheering or booing and throwing pillows and crisps at Greg and Lily.

'You're just a sad _soong_ , with nothing to say!' Greg and Lily hollered, swaying back and forth. 'About a _liife_ long wait for a hospital _staay_! And if you think that I'm _wroong_ , this never meant nothing to _yaa_!'

Greg almost fell over a bowl of crisps, and latched onto Lily to keep himself upright. They were giggling too much to sing, so Mycroft took over.

'So go... go away... just go... run away...'

'But where did you run to?!' Greg shouted, righting himself.

'And where did you hide?!' Lily bounced up and down.

'Go find another _waay_!' they sang together. 'Price you _paaay_...'

And then they sang, ' _Whoooa_!' at the top of their lungs, swaying together and almost tripping again, Joe and Age having to scramble across the carpet when they were almost trodden on. _'Whoooa! Whoooa! Whooa! Whoooa-aa, whooa-aa, whooa-aa..._ '

Greg and Lily repeated the chorus twice together, singing so loud Mycroft was sure the neighbours were going to call the police. When they reached the end they went very quiet, softly singing, ' _At_ _aall_...' to each other until the song trailed off and Alex leaned back.

'You're insane,' Mycroft said and the others all laughed and clapped.

Greg and Lily, of course, both bowed from the waist down, before Lily kissed Greg on the cheek and thanked him for backing her up. Greg just snorted and went back to sit beside Mycroft.

'Did my singing turn you on?' he asked.

Mycroft chuckled. 'No.'

'Keep telling yourself that, but I know better,' Greg said, waggling his eyebrows.

'You wish, Gregory dear.'

'I know it, Mycroft darling.'


	86. Dirty Rotten Bastards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Dirty Rotten Bastards by Green Day
> 
> **Author's Note:** So very sorry for the long wait! I didn't get the chapter to my beta until a few days ago and real life is a bastard and yadda, yadda, yadda.
> 
> Enjoy,
> 
> {Dreamer}

'Your turn again, Mycroft,' Alex said and stood, holding her guitar out.

'Fine,' Mycroft sighed and took the guitar.

'Oh, play _Ain't No Reason_ by Brett Dennan,' Anthea said.

'Just for you,' Mycroft said and settled back on the sofa. 'But I want a break and a drink afterwards.'

Anthea just told him to play.

Greg realised he knew the song when Mycroft started playing and smiled, settling back to watch his boyfriend.

'There ain't no reason things are this way, it's how they always been and they intend to stay. I can't explain why we live this way, we do it every day...'

Mycroft's voice was perfect for the song and Greg smiled, head tilted as Mycroft picked at the strings.

'Preachers on the podium speakin’ to saints, Prophets on the sidewalk beggin’ for _chaange,_ old ladies laughin' from the fire escape, cursin' my name...'

It seemed the others agreed with Greg; the whole group was watching, their eyes trained on Mycroft.

'I got a basket full of lemons and they all taste the same, a window and a pigeon with a broken wing... you can spend your whole life workin’ for somethin' just to have it taken _awaay_...'

Mycroft's head was tilted, his eyes closed as he played.

'People walk around pushin' back their debts, wearin' pay checks like necklaces and bracelets, talking 'bout nothin', not thinkin' 'bout death, every little heartbeat, every little breath. People walk a tight rope on a razors edge, carryin' their hurt and hatred and weapons. It could be a bomb or a bullet or a pen, or a thought or a word or a sentence...'

Mycroft opened his eyes slowly as he sang the chorus, but kept his eyes on the wall.

'There ain't no reason things are this way, it's how they always been and they intend to stay. I don’t know why I say the things I say, but I say them anyway...'

Suddenly Mycroft's eyes flicked up to Greg's.

'But _loove_ will come set me _free_...'

Greg felt his breath catch in his throat, eyes widening slightly.

' _Loove_ will come set me free, I _doo_ believe _... loove_ will come set me free, I _knoow_ it will _._.. _loove_ will come set me free, I know it will... _loove_ will come set me free, _yees_...'

Greg was completely oblivious to his friends watching the two, most of them smiling, Dimmock muttering about Greg being too thick to notice when love bit him in the arse.

'Prison walls still standin' _taall_ , some things never change at all. Keep on buildin’ prisons, gonna fill them _aall_ , keep on buildin’ bombs, gonna drop them _aall_ ,' Mycroft continued, his eyes dropping to the neck of the guitar. 'Working your fingers bare to the bone, breakin' your back, make you sell your soul. Life alone is filled with coal, suffocatin' slow...

'The wind blows _wiild_ and I may move, but politicians lie and I am not fooled. You don't need no reason or a three piece suit to argue the truth... the air on my skin and the world under my toes, slavery stitched into the fabric of my clothes. Chaos and commotion wherever I go, love I try to follow...'

Mycroft's eyes were back on Greg's, and Greg felt his heart skip a beat, his fingers tightening around his beer bottle. It was just like when Mycroft had first sang _A Lonely September_ to him; Greg really didn't know what to do with himself.

' _Loove_ will come set me _freee_... _loove_ will come set me free, I _doo_ believe... _loove_ will come set me _freee_ , I know it will... _loove_ will come set me _freee_ , I know it will... _loove_ will come set me free, _yees_...'

Mycroft trailed off, picking at the strings, his eyes still on Greg's. His voice softened as he sang the chorus one last time;

'There ain't no reason things are this _waay_ , it’s how they always been and they intend to stay. I can't explain why we live this way, we do it everyday...'

The song ended but Mycroft and Greg sat staring at each other, completely oblivious to the people staring at him. After a full minute Dimmock cleared his throat and said, 'So...'

Greg looked away from his boyfriend and Mycroft blushed brightly, pushing the guitar from his lap and leaning it against the sofa.

'I need a drink,' he murmured and shot up, hurrying into the kitchen.

Greg sat in silence for a few seconds before standing and following his boyfriend.

'They should just get married and get it over with already,' BJ grumbled.

Molly giggled and Dimmock snorted, while Lily cleared her throat and stood.

'Right, we need some music that doesn't make us all fall in love with Mycroft and his sexy voice,' the younger Hooper announced. Alex rolled her eyes at her best friend, but helped pick out a song and set it playing on Lily's iPod. Everyone fell into conversation about various things, letting the couple sort themselves out in the kitchen.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'You okay?' Greg asked as soon as he walked into the kitchen.

'Yeah,' Mycroft nodded. He was pouring Jack Daniels into a glass of ice, and downed it quickly before pouring another one.

'Easy there.'

Mycroft sighed and rolled his head, trying to work out the kinks in his neck. 'Sorry.'

'What's up?' Greg asked. He leaned against the table and folded his arms, watching Mycroft carefully.

'Nothing,' Mycroft said. 'I just forgot we had an audience, I didn't mean to... say all of that, in front of everyone.'

Greg nodded, but didn't say anything. He didn't have to; he knew exactly what Mycroft was hinting at.

'Just relax, have a drink- but drink it _slowly._ ' Mycroft chuckled. 'Come on,' Greg said and held his hand out.

Mycroft took it, linking their fingers, and he smiled when Greg squeezed their digits and tugged him back into the sitting room. Nobody looked their way, and Joe drew Greg into a conversation about cricket, leaving Mycroft to sit and sip his drink in silence.

He really hadn't meant to reveal so much to the others, but... it wasn't exactly a secret, was it? Everybody knew how he and Gregory felt about each other.

Now they just had to admit it to each other, in actual words.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mycroft didn't play anymore songs after that, and nobody asked him to. They kept Lily's iPod on, her music an eclectic mix of rock, punk, techno, rap, and a heap of other genres Greg couldn't name off the top of his head. They mostly drank, told embarrassing stories about themselves and their friends, and complained about school/work/family/etcetera.

'There's no fucking way you're faster than me!' BJ suddenly shouted. He, Joe, Age and Wendy were all sitting against the wall behind the sofa, drinking and chatting- well, arguing, apparently. 'I play football, you dickhead.'

'Look at these legs!' Joe said- slurred, really- and stood on wobbly feet. He stretched and Wendy snickered when Age eyed the expanse of skin revealed when Joe's shirt rode up.

Greg, Mycroft, Sally and Anthea- who were all still in the sitting room, while the Hoopers, Dimmock and Alex had disappeared somewhere- all turned, Greg and Mycroft peeking over the sofa to watch.

'These legs are fucking _long_ and _lean_ and... fucking _long_ ,' Joe announced. 'I could beat you in a race, no fucking question!'

'Let's go, then,' BJ said and scrambled to his feet, only falling over once.

'Fine, name a place and time,' Joe said.

'Right now, out back,' BJ said.

'Fine.'

'Fine.'

Joe and BJ both stomped off towards the kitchen, and the others all exchanged glances before rushing to follow. By the time they got outside BJ was draining his bourbon and Joe was trying to set his bottle on the back railing.

'Lap around the backyard?' Joe asked.

'You fuckin' know it,' BJ said. 'Just watch, Wright, I'm gonna fuckin' kick your arse.'

'What the hell are they doing?' Dimmock asked from the kitchen window. He and Molly were leaning over the sink, and Alex and Lily were peering through the back door.

'Apparently Joe thinks he's faster than Benjamin,' Mycroft said.

'So they're racing,' Greg added.

'Bloody idiots,' Age sighed, 'they're gonna hurt themselves.'

'Aww, don't stop them!' Sally whined. 'It'll be funny!'

'I'm not stitching anything up _or_ driving anyone to the hospital!' Age said and threw her hands in the air. She sat on the cushioned chair beneath the kitchen window and Wendy joined her, still giggling as they all watched Joe and BJ start stretching.

'Once 'round, right?' Joe asked, wobbling before righting himself.

'Yup,' BJ nodded.

'Start from the stairs,' Anthea suggested, pointing the boys in the right direction. They both stumbled down onto the grass, and Greg snorted.

'They're going to injure themselves,' Mycroft commented.

'It'll be fucking funny, though,' Greg snickered.

'Get ready, and go on my command!' Anthea said, leaning against the staircase railing and watching the boys try to stand beside each other. 'Ready?'

'Yes,' Joe said.

'Yup,' BJ repeated.

'And... go!' Anthea shouted.

It was... fucking funny, like Greg had said. They started strong, but the first corner proved tricky. Joe nearly tripped over a potted plant sitting on the edge of the lawn, and Molly groaned something about her parents murdering her when BJ fell into one of the bushes lining the right fence.

He got back on his feet, though, and caught up with Joe, who was trying to find his way through the dark. They stumbled around the next corner; BJ grabbed the back of Joe's shirt and tugged him back, trying to throw Joe off his feet and get ahead. Unfortunately he took himself down, face-planting in the grass and groaning. Joe was brought down, too, rolling onto his side and into the bushes.

Both groaned and grunted, trying to scramble to their feet, while most of the group laughed at their actions. Molly was watching from behind her fingers, trying to figure out how she could explain bent bushes and broken pot-plants to her mum and dad.

BJ apparently decided that staying on all fours would help, and cut across the lawn back towards the stairs, while Joe was still trying to untangle himself from the bushes. He got himself free when BJ was halfway across the lawn and ran, but apparently didn't see BJ, and tripped right over him.

There were more groans of pain, and Joe and BJ gave up, rolling onto their backs and staring at the sky. The group all waited, and waited, and then waited some more before Greg and Mycroft decided to go help; they'd freeze to death if they stayed there much longer.

'Come on, up you get,' Greg said and dragged Joe onto his knees. He was a bit drunk himself, and Joe wasn't helping, so it took more than two minutes to get the idiot onto his feet. Joe leaned heavily against Greg, while Mycroft had already got BJ back up onto the deck.

'I won?' Joe asked.

'Uh... yeah, mate, you won,' Greg chuckled.

'Yeah!' Joe shouted in Greg's ear, making the brunette wince. 'Fuck you, Benjamin Button!'

'You actually saw that movie?' Greg laughed. 'Fucking idiot.'

'Benji's a fuckin'... idiot,' Joe muttered.

'Of course he is,' Greg said and patted Joe on the stomach. He and Mycroft got the two idiots back inside, Joe whining that he'd lost his beer, BJ asking Thor, the God of Thunder, to get him another bourbon. 'I think you've been watching too much _Avengers_ ,' Greg told him.

'Fuck yeah, _Avengers!_ ' BJ shouted. 'Thor's the fuckin' shit!'

''Course he is,' Greg said. 'It's not even midnight and you're wasted.'

'Only way ta... ta live, Greggie boy,' BJ said, nodding and looking very serious.

'Uh-huh,' Greg settled on and left BJ and Joe slouched against the wall, and each other. They weren't his problem if they weren't about to hurt themselves or cause any damage.

He found Mycroft in the kitchen sipping his drink and watching Molly and Dimmock trail around the yard making sure BJ and Joe hadn't broken anything.

'Every day I question why I hang out with you people,' Mycroft said when Greg stopped next to him.

'And then you remember that we're fucking amusing,' Greg said.

Mycroft chuckled and turned to kiss Greg's cheek.

'Mm, I expect _way_ more later,' Greg said, wiggling his eyebrows.

The taller boy shook his head and took a larger gulp of alcohol.

'Loki is fuckin' heaps better than Thor!' Joe suddenly shouted from the sitting room.

'Thor's the fuckin' shit compared to that green fuck!' BJ retorted.

Greg sighed and shook his head, while Mycroft just laughed.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Lily and Sally were standing on the coffee table singing P!nk's _So What_ at the top of their lungs, and Greg really wondered why the neighbours hadn't called the cops yet. Sally was dancing in circles and shaking her arse, mostly at Anthea, who was reclined on the sofa grinning from ear-to-ear. _Aww, young love,_ Greg thought.

Molly was shaking her head in the kitchen doorway, but looked resigned, and Joe and BJ were still arguing bitterly about _The Avengers_ near the front door, getting steadily drunker. The multiple shots they'd downed earlier had really sped up the “let's get fucked” process.

'Na na na na na na _naa_ , we're all gonna get in a fight!' Sally shouted.

'So, so what?! I'm still a rock star! I've got my rock moves!' Lily took over, spinning in circles and almost toppling off the coffee table. 'And I don't _neeed_ you! And guess what? I'm havin' more fun! And now that we're done, I'm gonna show you _toonight_ , I'm alright! I'm just fine! And you're a tool, _soo_ , so what?!'

'I am a rock star! I got my rock moves! And I don't want _yoou_ tonight!' Sally hollered.

'My brain hurts!' Age groaned from beside Greg. Wendy was perched on the arm of the sofa, staring wide-eyed as Sally and Lily joined hands and sang together.

'Wanna go play cards in the kitchen?' Wendy suggested, eyes still on the girls.

'I'll play,' Greg said and drained his beer. 'I need another drink anyway.' He turned to his boyfriend. 'Myc?'

'Yeah,' Mycroft nodded and Greg dragged him to his feet.

'What are you lot up to?' Dimmock asked when the four entered the kitchen.

'Got a pack of cards?' Greg asked.

'I do,' Molly said from where she was throwing bottles into a trash bag. 'Just give us a minute.'

She disappeared while everyone sat, Dimmock joining them.

'So, are we playing for money, or...?' Greg asked.

'No, I don't have any money after all the Christmas shopping I did,' Dimmock said.

'Me either,' Age said and Wendy nodded.

'How about we just play for fun?' Wendy said and pulled her long black hair into a ponytail.

The others all nodded, and Dimmock shuffled and dealt the cards after they'd all agreed to play poker.

'This love has taken it's toll on me!' Lily sang- shouted- from the sitting room.

'She said goodbye, too many times before!' Sally's voice joined in.

'And her heart is breakin' in front of me!' Oh great, Anthea was singing now too.

'And I have no choice, 'cause I won't say goodbye anymore!' the three girls screamed together.

'Either your neighbours are really awesome,' Greg said, 'or completely deaf.'

'Let's hope they're deaf,' Molly said. 'I don't know how Lily talks me into these things.'

'She's an alien, I'm sure of it,' Greg said.

Molly giggled and Mycroft said, 'Gregory, focus on the game.'

'Aye, aye, Captain!' Greg saluted, and Mycroft rolled his eyes.

'I fix these broken things, repair your broken wings, and make sure everythin's _alriight_!' Anthea sang from the sitting room.

'IT'S ALRIGHT, IT'S ALRIGHT!' Lily and Sally shouted in response.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg and Mycroft were sitting on one of the armchairs, occasionally chatting softly, but mostly just sipping their drinks and enjoying the atmosphere. Mycroft had been banned from playing cards after winning fourteen games of Poker, seven of Go Fish, and five of Black Jack, all in a row.

Lily had even pulled out her Chess set, and Mycroft had beaten every single other person at the party. Surprisingly, it had been Greg who proved the biggest challenge, but Mycroft had still beaten him in a few moves. It might have had something to do with Greg licking Mycroft's ear whenever the red-head tried to think of a move, but Greg was standing by his proclamation that he was just fucking _awesome_.

Mycroft said he had an eidetic memory, it wasn't his fault he could count cards. And he'd been playing Chess since he was four.

He was still banned, though.

Greg was buzzed by midnight, well on his way to sloshed, and giggled when Lily jumped to her feet and shouted, 'Merry Christmas Eve!'

She went around the house and hugged everybody- she wasn't even close to being tipsy, she was just crazy.

Soon enough everybody had broken into groups; Sally and Anthea had taken over the sofa to snog; BJ and Joe had been pouring each other more and more shots and had disappeared two hours ago; Age and Wendy had wandered off, looking at something on a mobile phone; and Molly and Dimmock were playing hosts while chatting to everybody. Alex had snuck away and was sitting in the corner reading- well, until Lily caught her and dragged her towards the iPod to dance.

'Calling all demons, this is the season, next stop is _theraappyy_!' Lily shouted, singing _Dirty Rotten Bastards_ by Green Day. It was Christmas-themed, which seemed appropriate.

'We're the retarded, and the broken-hearted, the season of _misseryy_!' Alex sang. It seemed that once the Aussie had had a few beers, she was just as hyper as Lily; now Greg knew why they were best friends.

'Here's to the wasted-' Lily held up her smirnoff, '- I can almost taste it! The rejects, the waste of _times!_ '

'Gonna take it further, get away with murder, and no one here is getting out _aliive!_ ' Alex sang as the two swayed back and forth.

'Here's to all God's losers-' Lily pointed at Greg, and Greg flipped her off.

'- ra da da da _dee_ ,' Alex sang.

'The bottom-feeders frenzy!'

'Here's to all bloodsuckers, sing along with me!'

''Cause we don't say no! Scream _one, two, three_!'

Lily and Alex screamed together, despite Greg repeatedly telling them to fuck off. Eventually he gave up, the two girls singing about being misbehaved, ashamed of themselves, and beyond intervention... Greg was gonna have to get the album, the song was _awesome._

When Lily and Alex started singing again about demons and the broken-hearted, Mycroft turned to Greg and said, 'Need another drink.' He was just as buzzed as Greg.

Greg nodded and Mycroft stood, only wobbling slightly before finding his feet and heading into the kitchen, Lily and Alex shouting, 'Carried _awaay_ , carried _awaay_ , carried _awwaaaaay_!' at the top of their lungs.

Greg watched Mycroft go, head tilted as he eyed Mycroft's arse, hugged in tight purple denim. God, he hadn't had sex in _days_... Greg glanced around and noticed that only Lily and Alex and were still in the sitting room, and they were too busy singing and dancing together to notice. So he and Mycroft could sneak away and if they were quiet...

Greg downed the rest of his beer and stood, hurrying after his boyfriend. He thumped into the doorway and giggled, smiling when Mycroft turned to eye him from where he was making a J.D. and Coke.

'Are you alright?' Mycroft asked.

'I will be when we fuck,' Greg said and set his empty bottle on the counter. 'Come on.'

'Where are we going?' Mycroft asked as Greg grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of the kitchen and down the hall, his drink left abandoned on the kitchen table.

'Findin' somewhere to fuck,' Greg told him.

'Oh... okay,' Mycroft replied.

'No, Molly _just_ changed the sheets!' Dimmock said when Greg and Mycroft appeared in the doorway of Molly's room. He and Molly were sitting on the bad chatting, their heads bent closer together, fingers linked. Greg wasn't the only one who wanted to mount his partner, apparently.

'Damn it,' Greg cursed and continued down the hallway.

Lily's bedroom door was open and Lily, Alex, Wendy and Age were all sitting on the floor playing cards. Greg frowned, wondering when the hell everybody had swapped rooms. Lily and Alex were ninjas, he was sure of it... or aliens...

'Hey, uh, Sunshine?'

'No,' Lily said without looking up.

'Come _on_ ,' Greg whined. 'Me and Myc haven't had sex in, like, a week!'

'We're using my bedroom, Greg, and you are _not_ having sex in my bed,' Lily said and glared at him.

Greg groaned. 'We've got condoms,' he tried. He'd stuffed them, as well as a packet of lube, into his jeans before leaving home. He even had a bottle of lube in his school bag.

' _No_.'

Greg swore and backed out of the room, dragging a giggling Mycroft after him. 'This isn't funny,' Greg growled.

'It _so_ is,' Mycroft laughed.

BJ and Joe had passed out on the floor of Mr and Mrs Hooper's room, and Greg swore over and over again as he dragged Mycroft back down the hallway. Sally and Anthea were making out on the sofa in the living room, and though there was plenty of space, Greg was _not_ having sex with his boyfriend out in the open. Dimmock had already made it clear that Greg and Mycroft weren't allowed to have sex in Molly's room, so that left...

'Fuck!' Greg snapped. There were no rooms left unless they wanted to go at it on the kitchen table. And Greg wasn't _that_ desperate... yet.

'We could always just give each other blow jobs in the bathroom or back yard,' Mycroft suggested.

Greg whirled around to face his boyfriend, a grin on his face. 'The bathroom!' he shouted and once more tugged Mycroft down the hallway.

'The bathroom?' Mycroft echoed.

'They have a nice mat in the bathroom,' Greg said as they walked, 'and we're fucking on it, alright?'

'We are?' Mycroft asked.

'Yes.'

'Okay... am I getting rug-burn? Because I don't like rug-burn.'

'Um...' Greg hummed as they reached the bathroom. 'You can ride me,' he said and pushed Mycroft into the small tiled room.

Mycroft backed up, his socked feet sliding briefly against the tiles before he reached the mat Greg had mentioned. Greg kicked the door shut with his foot and fought with the lock before it shut with a click. He then turned and grinned at Mycroft.

'Take your shirt off,' Mycroft ordered, tugging at the fabric. Greg pulled the band shirt off and flung it aside, fingers already going for Mycroft's own button-up. Mycroft was quickly pressed against him, though, lips brushing across Greg's neck and making it impossible for Greg to free the red-head from his clothes.

'Mycroft,' Greg whined.

Mycroft groaned but pulled back. He dropped his button-up to the floor, his t-shirt quickly following, and both groaned when their chests pressed together, skin against skin.

They exchanged wet, dirty kisses, mouths sliding together roughly as they both tried to line their faces up. It wasn't helped by how horny Greg was, and Mycroft's cock had quickly filled out and was pressing painfully against his zipper. Their fingers clawed at each other's stomachs and chests, Greg moaning against Mycroft's cheek when he felt fingers pull and rub over his nipples.

The two teenagers were only wearing socks, so it was easy to slip out of their jeans once they'd battled with each other's belts. Mycroft kicked his trousers aside and tore at Greg's, swearing when they got caught on Greg's ankles.

'Fuck, hang on,' Greg said when he almost tipped over. He grabbed onto the sink and lifted each leg, letting Mycroft pull his jeans free. Finally they were only in pants, and Greg bunched their clothes together at one end of the mat before lying down. 'Come 'ere,' he said, holding a hand out.

Mycroft dropped to his knees and quickly straddled Greg's lap, groaning when their cocks brushed together through their boxers. Greg tugged Mycroft back down for more kissing, and the two moaned and grunted against each other's mouths as Mycroft rolled his hips, pressing their cocks harder and harder together.

'I need you naked,' Greg grunted when Mycroft thrust down particularly hard, now grinding his arse against Greg's trapped erection. 'Like, _now_ ,' the brunette added and dug his fingers into Mycroft's hip.

'Where's the lube?' Mycroft asked, slinking back so he could slide off his boxer-briefs.

'Uh...' Greg shook his head as he tried to think, 'jeans, back pocket.'

Mycroft tugged Greg's jeans from under the older boy's head, groping through the pocket. He found the smaller tube of lubricant they'd bought for occasions just like this, as well as a strip of condoms.

'Hoping to get lucky multiple times?' Mycroft asked, quirking an eyebrow.

'Shut up and get back down here!' Greg snapped.

The red-head chuckled and leaned down to pull Greg's boxers off, his boyfriend helping by lifting his hips and kicking them free when they reached his ankles. Mycroft wasted no time in straddling Greg once more, rocking back and forth as he popped the lube open and squeezed a generous amount of the cool liquid onto Greg's offered hand.

He made sure three of Greg's fingers were slick before dropping the bottle and leaning down, his breath hot over Greg's ear. 'Stretch me quick, I want to ride your cock until I come.'

Greg moaned and helped Mycroft tip forward, the genius bracing himself on the cold floor as Greg probed between his cheeks. It was Mycroft's turn to moan when two slick fingers quickly thrust in, a sharp sting making him hiss and tremble as Greg quickly prepared him.

It really had been too long; Mycroft's muscles were tighter than usual, making Greg bite his lip and try to stop from thrusting up. He didn't want to come _too_ quickly. Mycroft squeezed his eyes shut and rocked back and forth, taking Greg's fingers deeper and deeper until a third one was pushing in.

'Enough,' Mycroft finally grunted. 'Just fuck me.'

'Yes, sir,' Greg grinned and withdrew his fingers. 'Condom?'

Greg's hand was still covered in lube, so he let Mycroft tear a condom free and rip it open. He leaned back and grabbed Greg's cock, Greg huffing out a breath as Mycroft rolled the rubber over his erection and stroked a few times to make sure it was secure. Greg then grabbed himself and spread a bit of lube before making Mycroft move.

Mycroft hovered only briefly over Greg's cock before sinking down, his body moving up and down as he slowly but surely took Greg's dick into his body. Finally Greg bottomed out and they both breathed out heavily.

'Fuck,' Greg grunted, 'move, Myc, _goddamnit_.'

Mycroft did as asked. He placed his hands against Greg's chest, using his boyfriend as leverage to lift himself up and down. It took Mycroft only a few movements to get a steady rhythm going, and in next to no time he was bouncing up and down, head tossed back and mouth open, making obscene noises that almost drove Greg to the edge.

All Greg could do was grip onto Mycroft's hips tightly and thrust up every time Mycroft sank down. The hard tiled floor really wasn't comfortable, and the mat didn't help. It was chaffing Greg's back and arse, but Greg _really_ didn't care; he was getting sex, that more than made up for any possible rug-burn.

'Damn it, Mycroft, you're so fucking tight,' Greg grunted when Mycroft squeezed around him.

'Uh-huh,' was Mycroft's half-moaned response. His dick was bouncing between them and Greg really wanted to reach out and wrap his fingers around it, but he was too busy trying to keep Mycroft seated. As soon as they got home they were fucking in their warm, comfortable bed.

'Keep going,' Greg panted when Mycroft's pace faltered. His face was flushed red, his chest too, and Greg wanted to sit up and lick from his nipples to his ear. All he could do was dig his fingers harder into Mycroft's hips, plant his socked feet on the cold mat, and thrust up.

'Fuck, Greg,' Mycroft whined when the brunette hit his prostate. 'Just there, just there!'

Greg thrust up again and Mycroft tipped forward, arms resting on the floor either side of Greg's head.

' _Fuck_ ,' he whimpered. 'G-Gregory...'

Greg grabbed Mycroft's arse, a cheek in each hand, and pushed into him harder, the sounds of them fucking echoing around the tiny room. Mycroft's breathing was harsh in Greg's ear, and Greg's chest was rising and falling rapidly as he panted.

Mycroft's cock was now rubbing between their stomachs, and Mycroft whined loudly, his fingers pushing into Greg's hair and twisting the strands between his fingers.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck, _fuck_!' Mycroft came with a shout, spilling between their stomachs and immediately getting tighter. Greg's own orgasm was ripped from him and he moaned, spilling into the condom, his hips stuttering and grinding against Mycroft's arse.

Mycroft collapsed atop his boyfriend and Greg groaned at the sudden weight, but felt too fucked to really care. He just wrapped one arm around Mycroft and slowly let his legs sink to the floor, suddenly too tired to keep them bent.

The two breathed against each other as they caught their breath, their heart rates eventually slowing. When their skin began to prickle from the cooling sweat coating them, Mycroft moaned and Greg huffed a laugh.

'You horny bastard,' Mycroft grunted. 'I'm too buzzed to have sex on bathroom floors.'

'Hey, I didn't see you complaining ten minutes ago,' Greg said and nudged him. 'Get up.'

Mycroft grumbled again but eventually rolled onto his knees, wincing when Greg's cock slipped from him. Greg stood and awkwardly shuffled over to the toilet, using toilet paper to wrap the condom and clean himself up. He cleaned Mycroft, too, and tossed the used paper into the bin by the door before stumbling to get dressed.

It took them both a good ten minutes to work out what clothing belong to whom, and by the time they exited the bathroom everyone who was still awake had migrated back into the living room.

'Hey, you two wanna keep it the fuck down next time?' Dimmock demanded.

'I certainly enjoyed it,' Sally grinned and winked at Greg.

'Oh God,' Greg groaned.

'Yeah, just like that!' Sally said. 'We heard that a _lot_ from the bathroom.'

Greg cursed and his his face in Mycroft's neck, Mycroft chuckling beside him.

'Next time we use a bed,' the red-head said.

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg grumbled.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Years of fucking at the end of parties meant that Greg's body wanted to call it a night. He wasn't completely drunk, but suddenly exhausted, and couldn't stop yawning. Mycroft wasn't any better off and had curled up beside Greg after they'd got back to the sitting room, and was practically asleep with his head on Greg's shoulder.

Sally and Anthea had moved to the armchair, curled up together chatting softly. It was only two-thirty, and it looked like the party was winding down. In the past Greg could party until four am, get completely trashed, and somehow find his way home after a good shag. Now he just wanted to cuddle with his boyfriend.

'We've all gotten old,' Dimmock commented from behind the sofa.

Greg tilted his head and said, 'Hey, least I'm tipsy; you've had, like, three drinks.'

'I like to be sober when I have sex,' Dimmock hummed. 'You and Mycroft crashing out, then?'

'Yeah, I think so,' Greg said and glanced at his boyfriend. Mycroft's eyes were closed, his breathing even.

'Are you alright to take the couch?' Dimmock asked. 'Sally and Anthea are taking Molly's parents' bed; Wendy, Age and Alex are bunking with Lily; and I'm sleepin' in Molly's room, obviously.'

'That's cool,' Greg nodded. 'Me and Mycroft brought pillows and a blanket, they're in Molly's room.'

'I'll grab 'em.' Dimmock disappeared and Greg nudged Mycroft.

'Mycroft?' The red-head grumbled. 'Hey, Mycroft, time to get up,' Greg whispered and kissed Mycroft's head.

' _Noo_ ,' Mycroft moaned and snuggled deeper into Greg's neck.

Greg chuckled. 'Come on, move a bit and you can go to sleep.'

'Don't wanna.'

Greg smiled and just moved Mycroft himself, the taller boy whining and slapping at Greg's hands as he was shifted about on the sofa. Greg ignored him and settled down himself, having to press his body tight against Mycroft's to fit on the sofa. It wasn't too comfortable, but it beat the floor.

Dimmock re-appeared and tossed Greg his and Mycroft's pillows. Greg thanked him and stuffed them under his head, Mycroft's own resting on his chest. Dimmock spread the blanket over them and Mycroft sighed as he snuggled up, already falling back asleep.

'Did you want us to leave so you can sleep?' Anthea asked from across the room.

'Nah,' Greg said without turning. 'I'll fall asleep either way, and Mycroft's already gone. Just turn the light off when you go to bed.'

'Right-o,' Sally said and she and Anthea went back to talking quietly.

'You used to be such a party animal,' Dimmock laughed.

'Shut it,' Greg huffed.

'Night, Greg,' Dimmock said, a smirk playing on his lips.

'Fuck off,' Greg replied.


	87. Ignorance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Ignorance by Paramore

'Hey!'

Greg groaned.

'Wakey-wakey.'

'Go 'way,' Greg mumbled, wondering just why the hell Lily Hooper was waking him.

'Wakey-wakey, hands off snakey!' Lily shouted.

'What?' came Mycroft's voice.

Greg frowned and burrowed deeper into the warm back pressed against his front. Why the hell were Mycroft and Lily having a conversation when Greg was trying to _sleep_?

'My dad's always said it, even though we're girls,' Lily commented.

'Oh, so it means-' Mycroft began, but Lily cut in.

'Yup.'

Greg was gonna kill someone, he really was. He growled when Mycroft shifted about but went quiet again when his head was pillowed against his boyfriend's chest. _Ah, that's nice... now if everyone would just shut up..._

'Right...' Mycroft hummed. 'Now I know where you weirdness comes from.'

Greg groaned again. 'Mycroft...'

'Yes?'

'Shut up,' Greg grumbled, and slapped Mycroft's chest... well, nudged Mycroft's chest- same difference.

He heard Mycroft chuckle, and then the warm body he was using as a pillow shifted yet again.

'Mycroft!' Greg whined, but it was no use. Mycroft rolled over until they were face-to-face and Greg peeled his eyes open. Mycroft was smiling at him, looking as tired as Greg felt; his hair was all messy and he had dark shadows under his eyes. 'What're you doin'?' Greg demanded.

'Getting up,' Mycroft said and yawned softly. 'Lily said we need to get up and help clean before the Hooper parents get home.'

Greg frowned and looked up. Lily was standing before the sofa in pyjamas and a dressing gown, a piece of toast in her mouth. She waved and Greg scowled.

'Don't wanna get up.'

'You can sleep when we get home,' Mycroft suggested.

'You say that, but I won't be able to get back to sleep,' Greg complained.

'Regardless, we have to get up,' Mycroft said and slapped Greg lightly on the thigh. Greg grumbled and cursed but sat up when his boyfriend did, shivering when the cold air hit his skin.

'You're so cute in the morning,' Lily declared.

'Piss off, Hooper,' Greg yawned.

'He's always been a ray of sunshine in the mornings,' came Dimmock's voice from... somewhere, Greg was too tired to concentrate. 'Get some coffee into him and he'll be right.'

'Coffee?' Greg perked up, but only a little, and Lily snorted.

'Caffeine addicts,' she muttered and turned towards the kitchen.

'You're a morning person, I take it?' Mycroft asked.

'Yep, yep, yep!' Lily called cheerfully.

Greg groaned and leaned heavily against Mycroft, who'd just sat up. 'I hate you all,' Greg muttered.

'And we love you too,' Mycroft replied, kissing his cheek.

Greg groaned and sagged.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


After a fair few cups of coffee were ingested, the collected group were a little more awake. Molly, Lily, Dimmock, Anthea and Sally were all morning people; they were bright and smiling, darting around the house as they helped the twins clean and straighten everything. Everyone else more or less staggered through what they were doing. Mycroft, Age and Wendy were a bit more collected than the others, but they didn't seem too happy to be awake and cleaning either.

Greg mostly ran on auto-pilot; straightening this, picking up that, and collected his things and everyone elses. There were bottles of various alcohol all over the place, and Greg wondered why drunk people always found the oddest spots to abandoned their empty bottles and cans.

By nine-thirty the house was organised and cleaned, and Lily started kicking people out. Molly thanked everyone for coming and asked if they'd had fun. Lily just told the group to hit the road because she was sick of their faces.

Molly scowled at her sister and Alex threatened to smack her. Lily just grinned and waved.

'Thank you for having us,' Mycroft said, always the polite one. Greg just accepted hugs from both Molly and Lily, waved half-heartedly at Dimmock, and made his way to Mycroft's car. He nodded at the rest of the group, who were all leaving. He was too tired for proper goodbyes.

It had snowed overnight, and a thin slush covered the road, lawn, and Mycroft's car. It was already melting in the early morning sun and Greg smiled slightly to himself as he took heavy steps, the snow squishing audibly under his shoes. He'd always liked the snow, even when it was more wet slushy stuff than anything he could make into a snowball.

'You seem more awake,' Mycroft commented as they climbed into the Jag.

Greg shrugged. 'I like snow, is all.'

'Just so you know, we will _not_ be having any snowball fights,' Mycroft said.

'Why not?' Greg whined.

'I hate the snow,' Mycroft said, his nose wrinkling adorably. Greg wanted to lick it... and then wondered where that thought had come from. 'It's cold and it gets into your clothes and hair and _melts_ , making you wet and even colder. So, _no_ , no snowball fights.'

'But I'm your boyfriend!' Greg argued. 'You're supposed to do what makes me happy.'

'What makes _me_ happy is not having snowball fights and staying inside instead, where it's nice and warm, as well as dry,' Mycroft said. 'So shouldn't you, as my boyfriend, stay inside with me to make me happy?'

Greg opened his mouth, and glared at Mycroft when he couldn't think of an argument. Mycroft smirked and Greg huffed, folding his arms. 'I hate you,' he pouted.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


When they got home, the couple took their stuff inside, left it at the foot of the bed, and changed back into their pyjamas. Greg didn't feel up to much, and Mycroft didn't seem inclined to go back outside either. So they snuggled up under the blankets and watched a DVD on the TV in their bedroom. Maggie was still in bed, so the house was quiet. Normally Greg would be pouncing and ripping Mycroft's clothes off, but he was still tired, so settled for junk food and cuddling.

They were halfway through _Due Date_ \- Greg was in the mood to leer at Robert Downey Jr- when Mycroft suddenly said, 'I want to go to the party.'

Greg turned to look at him, slightly confused.

'My mother's party,' Mycroft elaborated.

'Oh,' Greg said, remembering the Christmas party Meghan Holmes was throwing, and Mycroft mentioning it the day before. 'Right,' Greg nodded. 'Okay.'

'I want to see my mother and brother, I want to be there for them,' Mycroft said. 'And I...' he hesitated before closing his eyes, 'I want Siger to see that I don't need him; that I'm happier without him, and that we're still together.'

'Okay,' Greg repeated and sat up. He leaned against his boyfriend. 'We'll go to the party.'

'Really?' Mycroft asked.

''Course,' Greg said. 'If you wanna go, we'll go.'

'You don't have to-' Mycroft tried, but Greg cut him off with a quick kiss.

'You're my boyfriend, Mycroft,' Greg said. 'I don't _have_ to go, no, but I want to. I won't let you go alone.' He paused, frowning. 'Unless you don't want me to...?'

'No, I do!' Mycroft said quickly. He grabbed Greg's hand and squeezed. 'I want you to go,' Mycroft said. 'I don't think I'll survive on my own.'

'Good,' Greg nodded. 'So we'll go to the party.'

Mycroft smiled hesitantly and squeezed Greg's hand again. 'Thank you, Gregory.'

'No worries.' Greg leaned over and kissed Mycroft's cheek before slinging an arm around him, the red-head slouching down until he could cuddle into Greg's side. 'Do I have to wear fancy clothes?' Greg asked after about a minute of silence.

'Nice trousers and a button-down shirt as well as a tie,' Mycroft answered.

Greg groaned and Mycroft chuckled. 'Well, at least I get to see you in the same get-up,' Greg commented.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'You be good tonight,' Maggie said as she grabbed her keys from the kitchen.

Greg rolled his eyes. He and Mycroft had had a nap until Maggie woke them up when she started getting ready for work. Now Mycroft was in the shower; Greg had already had one, and was currently lounging in pyjama bottoms and a cotton t-shirt, eating a bowl of cereal.

The party started at six, and it was only one o'clock. Mycroft usually took a good half-an-hour to get dressed, but he apparently took even longer before a party at Holmes Manor. It didn't start for another five hours, but Greg had given up trying to tell Mycroft that he was being weird.

'Did you hear me, Gregory?' Maggie asked.

Swallowing his mouthful quickly, Greg said, 'Yeah, Mum, I heard you; be good, don't do anything stupid, etcetera, etcetera.'

'Don't get cheeky with me, young man!' Maggie waggled a finger at him, and Greg snorted.

'This party's gonna suck,' he muttered.

'Then don't go,' Maggie said.

'Mycroft wants to,' Greg sighed, and frowned as he stirred his spoon around his bowl. 'I can't just let him go alone,' he added.

Maggie looked him over carefully and Greg raised an eyebrow.

'What?'

'Are you sure you should even be going?' Maggie asked. ' _Either_ of you?'

'Why?' Greg asked, his frown deepening.

'Well... after what Siger Holmes did...' Maggie chewed on her bottom lip. 'I don't want either of you to get hurt.'

'We'll be fine, Mum,' Greg waved a dismissive hand. 'Siger will glare and growl at us, I'll be bored, and Mycroft will see his mum and brother.' He offered her a smile, stirring his cereal. 'We'll be fine,' he repeated.

'If you're sure,' Maggie hummed, but she still didn't look convinced.

'Look, if anything happens, we'll come straight home,' Greg said. 'Okay?'

Maggie nodded. 'Be good,' she said again before kissing his cheek.

'I will,' Greg replied. He watched his mum go before the front door shut behind her.

Greg grabbed the cereal box and poured some more into his bowl, followed by fresh milk. He could hear the shower going, even from the kitchen, and wondered just why Mycroft felt the need to scrub himself clean _hours_ before the party even started. Maybe he was trying to steel himself for the inevitable run-in with Siger Holmes? Or maybe he was trying to drown himself under the shower so he didn't have to go either.

Greg snorted to himself and shoved more cereal into his mouth. He _really_ wasn't looking forward to this party; there'd be crappy food, old people in suits who talked about boring garbage, and probably no alcohol. Well, not any alcohol for people under the age of eighteen. Then again, maybe he and Mycroft could steal some and get sloshed in some other part of the house.

Shaking his head, Greg ate another spoonful of cereal, chewing slowly as he stared across the kitchen. In all honesty, he was as worried as Maggie. Meghan had said she'd take care of Siger, but Greg knew that nothing would stop Mycroft's old man from spewing crap at his eldest son. He probably wouldn't say anything too terrible in front of his guests, but that didn't mean he wouldn't corner Mycroft somewhere and try and kick him out- after calling him names, no doubt.

Which meant that Greg couldn't leave Mycroft's side. And, if he did, he'd have to make sure that Sherlock or Anthea- or both- were with Mycroft. He would _not_ let Siger Holmes corner his son and make him feel like shit. And, if Siger _really_ let loose, Greg would just smack him in the face. Maybe with a bottle. Mycroft wouldn't hate him if he knocked Siger out, would he?

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Time to get ready?' Greg asked when he noticed Mycroft standing in the doorway. The red-head was already wearing tailor-made trousers; he'd had suits tailored to his body in the past, and had just picked one of them to wear.

Mycroft just nodded slightly, eyes hovering somewhere over Greg's shoulder. Greg closed his laptop and stood from the desk, pushing the chair back in before making his way over to the taller teen.

'You okay?' he asked, and Mycroft nodded again. 'Hey,' Greg said, grabbing Mycroft's chin and forcing his boyfriend to look at him. 'If you don't want to go, we won't,' Greg said firmly.

Mycroft opened his mouth.

'Your mum and brother will understand,' the brunette said. He squeezed Mycroft's chin. 'They'll understand, okay? So if _you_ don't want to go, then don't go.'

Mycroft sighed and pulled his face away, one hand going to his eyes to rub. 'I... I _need_ to go,' he said, voice shaking only slightly. 'I just need to, Gregory.'

Greg nodded. 'Okay, whatever you want,' he said.

They fell into silence as they got ready. Greg only had one pair of good trousers; his mum always made sure he had good clothes in case they had to go somewhere fancy. The last time Greg had worn them, he'd gone to church with Dimmock, Molly, and Mr Dimmock. The priest- though he hadn't exactly been young- had supported gay rights in his speech. Not all religious people were that accepting, Greg had learned.

Greg pulled his white dress shirt on- that Maggie had ironed, Greg really had to learn how to use one- and the blue waistcoat he'd bought months ago to impress Mycroft. He was fighting with the tie he'd borrowed from Mycroft when Mycroft stepped into view, deftly tying the black silk into a Windsor knot.

Greg found his mouth dropping only slightly as Mycroft focused on what he was doing; the younger boy was wearing a suit... a fucking _suit._ How was Greg supposed to control himself?

It was dark brown with blue pin-stripes, his shirt sky blue to match his eyes, his tie striped brown and blue. His shoes were leather, practically shining under the bedroom light, and his hair was perfectly styled, whatever product he'd used making it look brown instead of auburn.

'Wow,' Greg breathed heavily as Mycroft stepped back.

'Hmm?' Mycroft hummed, still paying attention to Greg. He was doing Greg's waistcoat up and tucking the tie away. 'What?' he asked when Greg remained silent.

'Damn, Mycroft,' Greg blinked rapidly and shook his head. 'You look fucking _gorgeous_.'

Mycroft froze, his eyes darting to Greg's face. When he realised Greg was serious he flushed a delicate shade of pink that made his freckles stand out.

'I'm serious,' Greg murmured, eyes still drinking in Mycroft's body. 'Damn...'

'Stop it,' Mycroft chastised, still blushing. He smoothed down Greg's waistcoat and murmured, 'But thank you.'

Greg smiled and kissed his cheek.

Mycroft disappeared into the bathroom to make sure his hair was still perfect- and was no doubt trying to calm down- so Greg busied himself grabbing his wallet, keys, and phone. Anthea was picking them up and would be dropping them at home later. Neither she nor Greg thought it safe to let Mycroft drive, just in case Siger did something. Mycroft driving while pissed off wouldn't be safe.

Greg hadn't really bothered trying to style his hair, and had just run wet fingers through the messy brown locks. He looked better when his hair was a bit messy, anyway.

Mycroft reappeared, looking a bit more composed, and Greg said, 'Ready?'

Mycroft nodded as he grabbed his BlackBerry from the bedside table. 'Ready,' he echoed and slipped it into his pocket. 'Anthea should be here in a few minutes.'

They made their way through the house and stood in the sitting room; Mycroft by the window, Greg by the door.

When Anthea pulled up in the driveway, Mycroft took a deep breath and walked to the door, Greg pulling it open.

'You're sure about this?' Greg asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'I need to,' he repeated.

Greg just nodded and followed his boyfriend outside, locking the door behind them.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


The drive to Holmes Manor was taken mostly in silence; Anthea and Mycroft swapped a few words, and Greg had said hello, but they were pretty silent as Anthea pulled into the garage and turned her car off.

'Wow, Anthea, you look beautiful,' Greg said as she stepped out of the car. Anthea smiled and did a twirl, making Greg chuckle and Mycroft smile warmly at her. She was in a dark blue, strapless dress, the hem ending mid thigh, with a black belt wrapped around her waist. Greg had no idea what style of dress it was, but heard Anthea murmur the word “cocktail” when Mycroft hugged her.

Mycroft walked between Greg and Anthea, the two making sure he was composed as they headed towards the house. There were cars everywhere, so Greg assumed the party had started already.

'Are you okay?' Anthea asked softly when they reached the front door.

Mycroft nodded, and Greg and Anthea took a hand each, squeezing. 'I'm fine,' he insisted and dropped their hands to smooth his shirt out. Greg watched as his face transformed; any fear or nervousness melted away to be replaced by a calm, smooth Mycroft Holmes.

'Wow, gotta teach me how to do that,' Greg murmured.

'If you attend any more Holmes parties you'll get the hang of it,' Anthea commented. 'Practise makes perfect.'

Greg nodded as Mycroft knocked.

Mr Andrew answered the door. He was wearing a perfectly pressed tuxedo, tailor-made, and it made him look younger than he was. Greg didn't really know how old he was, but he now guessed that Mr Andrew was in his mid forties, rather than fifty.

'Mycroft,' Mr Andrew bowed. He glanced around after he'd let them in, and when he noticed that they were alone, he pulled Mycroft in for a short hug. 'How have you been?'

'Fine, thank you,' Mycroft smiled warmly at the cook (handy-man? Butler? Greg had no idea). 'How have you been? I should have called, but-'

'No, don't apologise,' Mr Andrew interrupted, shaking his head. 'You were getting settled, it's understandable.' He hugged Anthea, too, and shook Greg's hand as he and Mycroft swapped stories about what they'd been up to for the past few weeks.

Anthea whispered to Greg that she'd go scout ahead and see where Siger Holmes was, and Greg threw her a thankful smile as she disappeared through a door at the far end of the front room. Greg liked to complain about her taking his Mycroft time, but Anthea was a great friend, and a good person. Greg was glad Mycroft had her on his side.

Greg tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Mr Andrew say something about Mrs Hudson sitting the party out, when there was a knock on the front door. Mr Andrew smiled at Mycroft, who apologised for taking up his time.

'Never apologise for something like that, Mycroft,' the man said and squeezed his shoulder. 'Go and have fun. Ignore anything your father says.'

Mycroft nodded, and Greg waved briefly at Mr Andrew before the tuxedo-clad man went to answer the door.

'So, where's this party, then?' Greg asked.

'In the ballroom,' Mycroft murmured and took Greg's elbow. He steered him towards the door Anthea had disappeared through. As they approached, Greg could hear voices and soft music coming through the partially open door. 'Brace yourself,' Mycroft said before pushing it open.

Greg had to blink rapidly at the sudden bright lighting. That was quickly followed by his jaw dropping as he and Mycroft stepped into the ballroom.

The room was large and rectangular, with a black and blue tiled floor, and navy blue walls trimmed in dark wood. Greg estimated the space to be at least as big as his whole house, and had floor-to-ceiling windows spaced evenly around three of the walls, each covered by dark blue drapes with gold ropes keeping the fabric bundled together neatly.

There was a small stage in the far left corner with a group of people playing classical music, and a buffet table taking up most of the wall on the right. At the very end was a bar, built into the room, where three men were pouring drinks and taking orders. A swinging door to Greg's right led into the kitchen, where men and women dressed in black and white were darting back and forth with trays of food and drink.

There were dozens and dozens of people, all dressed in suits and fancy dresses, chatting in small groups, sometimes laughing loudly, and one or two making what Greg assumed were business deals from all the hand waving and angry faces he could see.

Mycroft moved to the right, and Greg followed, the two silent as Mycroft led his boyfriend past the buffet table and towards the bar.

'Er, will we be able to drink?' Greg asked once they reached it.

'They don't check ID,' Mycroft murmured. 'Besides, we always use the same catering company, and they served me last year.'

The bartender barely looked at them before delivering two drinks of what Greg assumed was bourbon from the amber colour of the liquid. He took a sip and hissed softly; Greg usually had his bourbon with Coke, but this was straight-up alcohol.

Mycroft had already downed a good mouthful and shook his head as he took Greg's elbow again. 'Let's go find my mother before she hunts us down.'

Greg just nodded and let himself be steered through the crowd. They got a few looks, mostly because of their age, Greg assumed. A few looked like they recognised Mycroft, but nobody stopped them until they reached the musicians.

'Mycroft!'

Greg and Mycroft both turned to see Sherlock hiding behind the stage. 'Sherlock, what are you doing?' Mycroft asked as he and Greg rounded the stage.

'Hiding,' Sherlock rolled his eyes, giving his brother a look that clearly said “duh”. 'Father wouldn't let me invite the Watsons, so I'm hiding.'

'But they were here last year,' Mycroft frowned.

'After the whole “my eldest son is a fairy” thing, Father decided I was spending too much time with John,' Sherlock scowled. 'Usually Mother tells him to stuff it when he says John can't come over, but he put his foot down when Mother was making the guest list for the party. So, here I am.'

He spread his arms as he finished, and Greg noted that he was sitting on what appeared to be a milk crate. He had plates of half-eaten (or half-experimented on) food on the floor, as well as tall glasses of different coloured liquid.

'What are you doing?' Mycroft asked.

'Trying to entertain myself,' Sherlock drawled. 'Father said I have to stay until nine; he _didn't_ say I had to stay in sight.'

'You're welcome to stay with us,' Mycroft offered, but Sherlock flapped a hand at him.

'I have no wish to see you and Lestrade snogging, or you making business deals with the many, _many_ boring men currently circling this party. Go away and leave me to my experiments.'

'You called _me_ over here,' Mycroft reminded his brother, and Sherlock stuck his tongue out. Mycroft just chuckled and grabbed Greg's elbow again. 'After you,' he said and nudged Greg away from Sherlock's hidey-hole. 'I'll come find you later, Sherlock.'

'Whatever,' was Sherlock's disinterested reply.

They made their way through the crowd, but were soon stopped again, this time by one of the “boring men” Sherlock had told them about. The only highlight of the conversation, for Greg, was when he was introduced to Mr Jenna as “my partner, Gregory”. That more than made up for a conversation that Greg had no interest in, and after ten minutes Mycroft had walked away with a meeting scheduled for next Saturday afternoon; something about Mycroft re-furbishing his local club, _The Mean Fiddler_.

There were another four conversations like that, and by the time the latest one was over, Greg had finished his drink. He wasn't used to drinking straight alcohol and decided to either get a J.D. and Coke next or stick with water. The couple made their way back to the bar and found Meghan and Siger Holmes turning away with fresh drinks.

Mycroft froze only minutely before he was pasting a fake smile on his face. 'Mother,' he said and took Meghan's hand, placing a soft kiss against her knuckles. Meghan smiled and hugged Mycroft briefly before drawing back.

'Mycroft, dear, it's so wonderful to see you,' the lady of the Manor told him warmly. Her eyes turned to Greg. 'And Gregory; wonderful to see you, too.'

'Mrs Holmes,' Greg nodded and took her hand, just like Mycroft had. 'May I say you're looking lovely this evening?' he added with a bright smile.

Mycroft threw him a smirk as Meghan giggled. 'Aren't you the charmer?' she said.

Greg just smiled and turned his attention to Siger Holmes. 'Mr Holmes,' he murmured, and held his hand out; gotta be polite, right?

But Siger Holmes sneered at his offered hand, and Greg let it drop back to his side.

'Mr Holmes,' Mycroft said and all eyes turned to him. 'This gathering is lovely, as always.'

'Hmf,' Siger grunted and sipped his drink. 'I didn't think you'd actually turn up.'

Mycroft's shoulders stiffened and he clenched his jaw before saying, 'I was invited, and Mother wanted me here. I came by her request.'

'And _him_?' Siger said, pointing at Greg. Greg scowled.

'Is my plus one,' Mycroft told the older Holmes. 'Ms Lestrade, Gregory's mother, was also invited. But she had a prior engagement and, unfortunately, couldn't make it tonight.'

Siger grunted again and took another sip of his drink. 'You shouldn't have come here, _boy_ ,' he finally said. 'You don't belong here. And, if I remember correctly, I told you to _never come back_.'

He snarled the last few words and Meghan held a hand out, as though she could stop him. Greg curled his fingers into fists, ready to jump between the two if he had to. If Siger Holmes even _thought_ about laying a hand on Mycroft while Greg was here, Greg would kill him.

'And, if _you_ remember correctly,' Mycroft growled, 'I said I'd _never_ come back. But I'm not here for _you_ , I'm here for Mother and Sherlock. However, if you'd like to continue to discuss this, we can give your guests something _really_ interesting to gossip about.'

Siger straightened up suddenly, and Greg glanced around when he realised more than a dozen eyes were trained on them.

'It's your choice, _Siger_ ,' Mycroft continued. 'We can let this go and act like civilised adults, or you can start trouble. What will it be?'

Siger glared at him before turning and stalking away. Meghan glanced at Mycroft briefly before she followed after her husband. Mycroft sighed and turned to the bar, ordering two J.D. and Cokes.

'Here,' he said and handed Greg one before downing half of the other.

'Hey, easy there,' Greg said and rubbed Mycroft's arm. 'You okay?'

'Fine,' Mycroft said, eyes closed. 'I just didn't think I'd run into him so early on.'

'You wanna go get some fresh air or something?' Greg asked. He'd noticed another door on their way around the room, one that led to a patio that had a few guests milling about smoking.

'Yeah,' Mycroft nodded and took another gulp of his drink. 'Let's go.'

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg had one cigarette, Mycroft two, but at least the genius had relaxed again by the time they went back inside. Over the next hour and a bit they had another drink each and had to stop Sherlock from trying to pick-pocket the guests because he was bored. Eventually he hid under the buffet table, stuffing his face full of little pastries, leaving Greg and Mycroft to mingle.

Well, Mycroft mostly talked business and avoided answering any questions that had to do with his relationship with Siger Holmes. People were curious after the earlier conversation, and after hearing countless rumours about Mycroft's sexuality and current living arrangements. Having Greg there answered some of those questions, and Mycroft skirted the others.

Anthea helped. Greg swore she was a ninja with the way she just suddenly appeared at the right moment, always ready to ask about the other person's current business or family or attire. It gave Mycroft and Greg a chance to back out of the conversation and make a hasty retreat. Greg really had to buy her a present; a big one.

After three and a bit drinks, Greg had to go to the bathroom. He _really_ didn't want to leave Mycroft, but when Anthea appeared yet again, he knew Mycroft was in capable hands.

So he gave his empty tumbler to the closest waitress and leaned over to speak in Mycroft's ear, 'I'm just gonna go to the loo.'

Mycroft nodded and pecked Greg on the cheek. Greg slipped out of the room and made his way across the foyer and down the hallway, remembering where the bathroom was from when he'd had dinner at the Manor. So far, the party was going alright. It was a bit boring, which Greg had expected, but there hadn't been any major disasters yet, mostly thanks to Anthea. Greg just hoped that Siger Holmes didn't try to cause any more trouble.

Greg didn't notice the man himself following him from the party.


	88. The Ghost of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** The Ghost of You by My Chemical Romance
> 
> **Warnings:** Homophobia, homophobic language, violence

Greg dried his hands on one of the blue towels before exiting the bathroom and walking down the hall. As he walked, he realised he should have agreed to meet Mycroft somewhere specific; he wasn't looking forward to searching the crowd for his boyfriend.

He was halfway down the hall when he heard an angry, 'What are you doing here?'

Greg paused before sighing. Okay... he had expected Siger to corner Mycroft, not _him_. But Greg was used to people calling him names because of his sexuality, so anything Siger said about _him_ wouldn't damage Greg. And if Siger thought Greg would just stand there and let the older man push him around, he had another thing coming.

Greg tried to keep a respectful- or at least blank- look on his face as Siger Holmes walked down the hallway towards him. 'Hello, Mr Holmes,' he said politely. No need to give Siger any more reason to kick him out. Screwing his son was enough, Greg knew. 'You have a lovely home.'

Siger's eyes narrowed, apparently not expecting Greg to be polite... or capable of it.

'What are you doing here?' Siger finally repeated.

'I was invited,' Greg said.

'By who?'

'Mrs Holmes,' Greg told him. Siger's eyes narrowed further, anger clouding them. 'I have the invitation, if you want to see it,' Greg added.

Siger wrinkled his nose in disgust, and Greg clenched his fists tightly. _Don't hit Mycroft's dad, don't hit Mycroft's dad, don't hit Mycroft's dad..._

'I knew she was inviting _him_ ,' Siger said, and Greg seriously could not _believe_ that the man couldn't even say his son's name. And all because Mycroft was gay. Seriously, the human race was so _very_ fucked up, it made Greg want to scream. Like what gender someone was attracted to fucking _mattered_? 'I didn't think that extended to... _you_ ,' Siger said.

Greg shrugged one shoulder, trying to look uncaring. 'The invitation said “Mycroft Holmes, Plus One”,' he said, 'and seeing as how I'm Mycroft's boyfriend, that meant me.' He paused. 'And my mum, but she had work.'

'You shouldn't be here,' Siger said, and Greg felt like rolling his eyes.

'It's not like I want to be here,' he said, and Siger arched an eyebrow. God, is that where Mycroft and Sherlock got that from? 'Mycroft wanted to come, to see his mother and brother,' Greg continued. 'I'm here for _him_.'

'Of course you are,' Siger sneered. 'Our money has nothing to do with it, does it?'

Greg stared at him, blinking rapidly. 'You think I'm with Mycroft for his _money_?' Siger didn't say anything, but the look on his face was enough of an answer. 'Wow,' Greg snorted. 'That's just... wow.'

He really had no idea how to reply to that, and decided that he'd spent too much time in Siger Holmes' company already. 'If you'll excuse me, _sir_ ,' he added as much venom into the last word as he could, and had the satisfaction of watching Siger's left eye twitch, 'I have to go find my boyfriend.'

Greg made sure not to brush against the man as he walked past; the last thing he needed was Siger trying to pick a fight or, more likely, try and get Greg arrested for assault. He wouldn't put it past Siger to spin some lie about Greg being an out-of-control teenager.

He had to breathe in and out deeply as he walked down the hallway and turned left, heading back towards the party. God, just a minute in that man's company was enough to raise Greg's blood pressure. Everything he'd done to Mycroft just boiled to the surface and Greg had a hard time not lashing out.

But violence wasn't the answer, even though it would make Greg feel a hell of a lot better if he broke Siger Holmes' nose. It would upset Meghan, which would in turn upset Mycroft. And Greg didn't want that.

Still taking deep breaths, Greg forced his fingers to loosen from where he'd curled them into fists, and made a point to straighten and let some of the tension bleed from his shoulders. Mycroft would no doubt know that something had happened, but Greg didn't want to alarm him.

Greg had just stepped back into the foyer- front room? Entrance hall? What the fuck was the massive, tiled room even called? And who the hell even _had_ a massive, tiled front room in their house?- when his shoulder was grabbed. Greg was forcefully spun around, and he jerked back in surprise when he looked up into the furious eyes of Siger Holmes.

'What the-'

'You think you can just talk to me like that and walk away?' Siger demanded, practically hissing.

Greg blinked in shock. What the hell? Did the man have some type of time delay on his anger or something? 'Look, I don't want any trouble,' he said flatly. 'I'm here for Mycroft. We're leaving in an hour or two, then you'll probably never see me again.'

Siger dug his fingers into Greg's shoulder, and the teenager gasped in pain before wrenching himself free.

'What the fuck?' he snapped and reached up to rub his shoulder.

'You listen here, you sick _freak_!' Siger spat, and Greg felt anger course through his veins. 'You are _not_ welcome in my house. So get the fuck out!'

'Who the hell do you think you are?' Greg demanded. The words came out louder than he'd intended, and he heard the door behind him- which led to the room where the party was- swing open.

But he was too angry to care. He'd tried to walk away- had tried not to get into a fight. But, apparently, Mycroft's dad wasn't going to just let things go.

'Where the fuck?' Greg snapped, his shoulder still tingling in pain. Words he could handle, but _not_ someone trying to hurt him.

'I told you to get out!' Siger shouted and pointed at the front door to his right.

'And I told _you_ that I'm here for my boyfriend!' Greg replied, just as loudly. 'I don't want any trouble, alright?'

'Don't want any trouble?' the older man scoffed.

'I just came here to enjoy myself!' Greg said angrily. 'You're the one cornering me in hallways and grabbing me!'

'I don't want fucking _fags_ in my house!' Siger roared.

There were gasps from the room behind Greg, and both Greg and Siger turned, only just realising they had an audience. A good number of the guests were crowded in the doorway, watching their argument. Some looked completely stunned, like they couldn't believe that Siger had just said that- to a teenager, no less- while others just appeared curious.

Siger seemed beyond caring, and grabbed Greg's arm, _tightly_. Greg hissed in pain as strong fingers closed around his wrist, cutting off blood supply and instantly making his entire arm tingle horribly in pain. He tried to wrench himself free, but apparently Siger had a lot of practice dragging teenagers around. It made Greg even angrier, picturing the older man forcing Mycroft and Sherlock to get out when he didn't want to see them.

'Let me go!' Greg ordered.

'Get the fuck out of my house!' was Siger's reply.

'Let me go and I will!' Greg shouted. 'Jesus, _get the fuck off me_!'

Siger dragged Greg all the way to the front door before there was a shout behind them.

'Gregory!'

Greg turned, and lost his balance when he saw Mycroft pushing his way through the gathered crowd. He fell into Siger, who snarled in disgust and threw Greg off of him. Again, Greg tripped over his own feet, and before he could stop himself he'd fallen backwards into the table by the door.

It skidded loudly against the tiles, and Greg felt his back flare up in pain, quickly followed by his head when he thumped it against the wall. He groaned as he steadied himself, half crouching, half standing. Before Greg could righten himself, Siger had yanked him forward.

'Let him go!'

Suddenly there was someone between them, forcing Siger back, and Greg wobbled on his feet before firm hands pulled him upright. He blinked rapidly and focused his eyes.

'Mycroft,' he breathed when he recognised the person holding him up.

'Are you okay?' Mycroft asked. His eyes were bright with worry, darting all over Greg's face and body.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded and instantly winced. 'Um... I'll be fine,' he murmured and rubbed a hand over the back of his head. A headache was already building, and he knew he'd have a lump on his skull before long. Not to mention bruises where his lower back had hit the table.

Mycroft made sure Greg could stand by himself before he rounded on his father. 'What the hell is wrong with you?' he demanded.

Siger wasn't perturbed, and stomped forward. 'I told you to never come back!' he snarled, loud enough for the people watching to hear. 'I told you I didn't want any sick fucking _queers_ in my house!'

'I was _invited_ ,' Mycroft said, glaring at him. 'I'm here for my mother, not for you.'

'I don't care who you're here for!' Siger shouted. 'Get the hell out of my house, and take your faggot _boyfriend_ with you.'

Mycroft tensed, and Greg watched as his fingers curled into fists. 'Excuse me?' the red-head demanded, voice deadly quiet.

'You heard me,' Siger sneered. 'I don't want you in this house, spreading your sickness. You made your choice, and now you have to live with it. You're not welcome here, _ever_.'

'It would be in your best interest if you _never_ called Gregory anything like that again,' Mycroft growled.

'What?' Siger said, grinning viciously. 'You mean _faggot_?' Mycroft's fists shook. 'Queer? Fairy? _Freak_?'

'Stop it,' Mycroft cut in. 'I'm warning you right now.'

'What are you going to do?' Siger taunted, and Greg reached out for his boyfriend. 'What the hell are you going to do, _boy_? You're nothing but a sick homo who'll end up dying from one of your queer diseases, and it'll be that sick _faggot_ behind you that brings you down!'

'I said don't call him that!' Mycroft snarled, his voice finally rising in anger.

'What?' Siger sneered and took a step closer. Greg did, too, reaching out for his partner. 'I knew you'd never amount to anything,' Siger continued. 'But I didn't think you'd end up with a sick. Fucking. _Faggot_!'

Suddenly Mycroft swung, his fist connecting with Siger's nose with an audible _crunch_. The guests watching gasped and started talking all at once, and Meghan shouted out her eldest son's name from somewhere in the crowd. Siger stumbled back, but Mycroft leapt forward again, hitting Siger in the jaw and sending him to the floor.

Before Mycroft could jump on his dad and beat him to death- and Greg was sure that was about to happen- Greg grabbed Mycroft by his jacket and dragged him backwards.

'Mycroft, stop!' he ordered when the red-head fought him, lashing out and trying to get back at the man bleeding on the floor. ' _Mycroft_!'

Suddenly Meghan was there, looking like she was torn between helping Siger up and comforting her son. Before she could, Mycroft got free of Greg's grip and stalked away, not looking at anyone. By the time Greg realised what had happened, Mycroft had disappeared out the front door.

'Lestrade!'

Greg turned to see Sherlock pushing through the crowd, and the younger boy quickly raced to his side. 'What?' he asked.

'Go after him!' Sherlock ordered. 'Make sure he's okay, and that he doesn't do anything stupid.'

Greg nodded vaguely and looked at Siger, who was sitting up now, blood running from his nose and mouth.

' _Gregory_!' Sherlock snapped.

Greg tore his eyes away from Siger and nodded at Sherlock before he turned and chased after his boyfriend, leaving everyone shouting and discussing what had happened behind him.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Doctor Phil was sitting on the sofa at Maggie's, enjoying a beer. He and Maggie had finished their shifts at the same time, and Maggie had invited him over for dinner a late dinner and a movie. Her son and his boyfriend were at a party at Holmes Manor, meaning they'd have a few hours alone before the teenagers got home.

Phil didn't know a lot about Mycroft's family situation, only that his father was homophobic and had kicked him out. Maggie hadn't really talked about it in great detail when it had happened, and Phil wasn't about to ask Greg or Mycroft; it was none of his business.

The phone had rung halfway through the movie they were watching, and Maggie had excused herself and taken the cordless phone into the kitchen. Phil kept watching the movie until he heard Maggie say a loud, ' _What_?'

He turned quickly, unsure what to do when he saw Maggie pacing in the kitchen. Did he go and see what was wrong, or mind his own business?

'Do you know where they are?' Maggie asked, and she stopped by the doorway, her fingers curling tightly around the phone. 'Damn,' she breathed out heavily and rubbed her eyes. 'That Anthea girl drove them, didn't she?' Maggie asked, and then nodded along to whatever the person on the other end of the phone said. 'And she hasn't seen them?' Maggie paused. 'Right, okay... so... I don't think they'd walk, but I'll let you know if they come home.' Maggie nodded. 'I will, I promise... you'll call if you find them?' Maggie chewed on her bottom lip. 'Okay, thank you, Meghan.'

Maggie hung up and Phil paused, unsure if he should say something or let it be. Finally Maggie re-entered the sitting room and sat heavily, the phone in her lap.

'Maggie?' he asked hesitantly after she'd remained silent for a good two or three minutes.

Maggie jumped slightly and blinked, her eyes going to Phil before she breathed out shakily.

'Are you okay?' Phil asked, feeling more concerned by the second.

'I... don't know,' the nurse said slowly.

'What happened?'

'Um... you know how Greg and Mycroft went to that Christmas Party at the Manor?' she asked. Phil nodded. 'Siger Holmes... cornered Greg, or something. Meghan and some of the guests found them arguing in the foyer, and Siger tried to throw Greg out. He started calling Greg... _names_.'

Maggie's voice hardened on the last word, and Phil could just guess what a homophobic man like Siger was capable of saying, even to a seventeen-year-old.

'Mycroft broke it up, but Siger kept shouting things,' Maggie continued. 'And next thing Meghan knew, Mycroft had punched his father. Greg dragged him off and Mycroft walked out, and Greg chased after him. Meghan doesn't know where they went, but a few people are looking; Sherlock and Anthea are searching the house.'

Maggie paused to rub her face, and Phil just waited.

'Anthea drove them, so Meghan doesn't know if they left,' she eventually said. 'She called to let me know what happened, and wants me to call if they come home. She said she'd call if they found them.'

'Damn,' Phil murmured, because he wasn't sure _what_ to say. There had been a bit of tension in his own family when his brother had come out, but nothing like this. Mycroft's family made Phil's look perfect.

Maggie put the phone on the coffee table and leaned forward, elbows on her knees. 'I _knew_ something would happen,' she breathed out heavily. She put her face in her hands, her next words muffled. 'God, I should never have let them go.'

_'Let_ them go? _'_ Phil echoed and grabbed his beer again, taking a sip. He leaned forward and wrapped an arm around her. 'They're seventeen, Maggie, they would have gone whether you said yes _or_ no.'

Maggie moved her hands to smile at him weakly.

'And, technically, Mycroft isn't your son,' Phil added. 'You can't stop him from doing what he wants.'

'Technically?' Maggie echoed.

Phil smiled slightly. 'Well, he and Greg are in love, and he lives here; that makes him family, doesn't it?'

Maggie nodded slowly before breathing out and leaning back, Phil's arm still wrapped around her. 'I used to worry about Greg so much,' she said suddenly, and Phil watched her silently. 'Don't get me wrong, he's always been a good kid,' Maggie continued. 'But he never paid attention in class, he was always getting into trouble for fighting or swearing in class. He spent every bloody weekend at someone's house getting drunk and shagging whoever took his fancy.'

She sighed and closed her eyes.

'But he was a _good_ kid,' she repeated. 'He never brought any of his one-nighters home, never got arrested, never got into too much trouble or did anything too terrible to upset me. He was always there for me, willing to make meals when I was working too hard, or running to the shops when I needed something. He half-raised himself, in all honesty, and he's never complained about our lack of money, or what his dad did.'

Maggie paused, her lips pursed as she stared across the room.

'But I was worried,' she said, softly. 'He seemed so... unhappy, and... _lost_. Like he was just drifting, doing whatever everyone around him did.' She paused again, and a small smile graced her lips. 'And then Mycroft came along and...' Maggie chuckled and looked at Phil. 'He's just been so different since he and Mycroft started... not-dating.' She made air-quotes around the last two words, and Phil snorted. 'He's just been happier, and he's doing better in school,' Maggie continued. 'He doesn't go to nearly as many parties, and he just smiles _all_ the time.'

'He's in love,' Phil said, and Maggie laughed softly.

'Yeah, he is,' she agreed. Her smile slowly slipped away, and she sighed again. 'It hurts him, seeing Mycroft in pain. When Mycroft was kicked out, and all the stuff that he did in his past.' She looked at Phil carefully, her eyes slightly clouded. 'Meghan told me one afternoon when we were having tea... Mycroft said he used to have... problems.' Phil raised an eyebrow, unsure of what she was saying. 'Drug problems,' Maggie finally clarified.

'Oh,' Phil blinked. ' _Oh_.' He scratched his free hand through his hair and reached for his beer again.

'You knew,' Maggie said; a statement, not a question.

Phil took a long swig and put the bottle back on the table as he swallowed. 'Um... yeah,' he nodded slowly. 'Maggie, I would have told you, but... it wasn't my secret to tell.'

'Who told _you_?' Maggie asked.

'I guessed correctly, when I first met Greg and Mycroft,' Phil admitted. 'The way Mycroft acted around certain things, certain subjects... I guessed and Greg confirmed it.' He looked at Maggie. 'You're not mad, are you?'

'No,' Maggie shook her head immediately. 'Like you said, it wasn't your secret to tell. I just wish _Mycroft_ had told me. I haven't brought it up, because I don't think he wants me to know. Meghan just let it slip. And now...' she raised a hand to rub at her eyes tiredly. 'With what his father just did, Meghan's worried that Mycroft will slip back into drugs.'

'Hey,' Phil said and squeezed her shoulder. 'It'd take more than Mycroft's dad being a prick for Mycroft to use again,' he said firmly. 'He's got Greg, and his brother, _and_ you, not to mention all of his friends. I seriously doubt that this is enough for Mycroft to go out and try and score cocaine.'

'Do you think so?' Maggie asked, looking worried.

'Yeah, I do,' Phil nodded. 'And even if he does, Greg will talk sense into him. Mycroft loves him, he'll see reason if Greg's there with him.'

Maggie nodded and breathed out heavily. 'Yeah,' she murmured.

'They'll be fine, love, you'll see,' Phil said, squeezing her shoulder again. 'Either Meghan will call and say they're fine, or they'll come home. All you can do is wait.'

Maggie nodded again and curled up next to Phil, her head resting on his shoulder. Phil kept his arm wrapped loosely around her, and stroked her arm every time she started fidgeting or biting her lip. He was sure Mycroft and Greg would be fine. He just hoped they came home soon so Maggie could breathe.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg had only just caught sight of Mycroft when he ran through the front door. Mycroft disappeared around the side of the house, and Greg followed, trying to breathe quietly so he could listen to where Mycroft was going. He followed his boyfriend down the side of the house, across the rather large lawn, and into the stables, where he found Mycroft sitting on the ground, leaning against one of the rotting walls.

Greg took a second to catch his breath, and marvel at the fact that the Holmeses actually had _stables_. Seriously, _stables_ ; in the middle of _Brighton_. Greg shook that thought from his head and approached Mycroft carefully. The taller teen was lighting a cigarette with shaking hands, and he noticeably calmed after he'd taken a few deep drags.

Greg waited a few minutes, but Mycroft didn't say anything, so he crossed the stables and sat beside his partner, leaving about an inch of space between them.

Eventually Greg lit his own cigarette and the two smoked in silence, just staring across the stables and at the sky they could see through the open space that had once housed two large doors.

'Usually shit like this makes me want to get high,' Mycroft admitted suddenly. Greg twisted to look at him. 'Just to forget,' Mycroft continued, staring at his half-smoked cigarette. 'Nothing's ever shut my brain up like cocaine.'

Greg swallowed thickly, unsure what to say.

'But I... I _don't_ ,' Mycroft said, like it startled him- confused him. 'Right now I just want to have a few cigarettes and curl up in bed with you until I forget how angry I am.'

'Really?' Greg asked hesitantly. Mycroft nodded. 'That's... good,' Greg settled on saying.

Mycroft snorted and tilted his head back until it rested against the wooden wall behind them. 'Yeah,' he murmured.

They fell into silence again, and when they finished their cigarettes, they lit more. Greg had always chain smoked when he was pissed off, and Mycroft seemed to be the same way.

'I'm so stupid,' Mycroft said and let out a shaky breath after his first drag, smoke curling around their heads. 'I thought if he saw how happy we were together he'd accept it.' He shook his head. 'I'm such an idiot.'

Greg looked out at the dirty ground, at the grass beyond the stables, as he tried to put his thoughts together.

'You know how you asked me a while ago if... if I missed my dad?' Greg asked after a few minutes. Mycroft glanced at him and nodded. 'Well... I do,' Greg admitted.

Mycroft just watched him, silent.

'My dad was a fucking tool,' Greg told his boyfriend. 'He spent all his money on booze and horses. He treated Mum like shit; he hit her a few times before my grandpa put a stop to it. He hit me, too.'

Anger flashed through Mycroft's eyes but he remained silent, wanting Greg to continue.

'He was just a horrible person,' Greg said, 'and every day I wished that he'd change; that he'd just... _stop_. And then... then he left.' Greg took a long drag of his cigarette. 'I knew it wasn't my fault, he was just a tosser. I was glad he left, my life's better without him.'

He paused and stared at the ground, emotions warring inside him.

'It hurts, though,' Greg finally continued. 'It hurts knowing that my dad chose to leave; that he decided he didn't want me, didn't love me. I don't get how a person can just up and leave their child. I see parents with their kids, and they love them, and I think, _what the fuck_? Why did my dad leave if parents are supposed to love you? Why did _my dad_ decide to fuck off?'

He sighed and looked at Mycroft.

'It hurts, Mycroft,' Greg said. 'Knowing that your dad can't just love you, accept you. Knowing that your dad hates you for who you are and has no problem cutting ties and fucking off. It never stops hurting.'

He sucked back on his cigarette and blew smoke above their heads. Mycroft's eyes never left his face.

'It gets easier,' Greg continued. 'You learn to deal with it. You learn to hide how much it hurts when people talk about your dad, or when you see them with _their_ dads. You learn to ignore the hurt until you cry yourself to sleep or get trashed or... shoot up.'

Mycroft wet his lips and looked away.

'The hurt never leaves,' Greg repeated, 'a part of you will always wonder _why_ ; why you? Why'd you get the shitty parent? You know it's not your fault, that you can't change it, but sometimes you still wish that it would. You wish your dad would just change and love you. You know it won't happen, but a part of you can never give up. You'll always... hope.'

Greg rolled his cigarette between his fingers, eyes distant.

'A part of you will always hope,' Greg murmured, 'and every time it doesn't change, every time you're reminded that your dad doesn't give a fuck about you, it hurts all over again. And you'll be fucked up for a while; you'll get depressed and cry and throw things. And then you'll pick yourself up, you'll deal with the pain again, and you'll move on.'

He looked back at Mycroft.

'Because that's all you can do,' Greg said. 'You can't change your dad. He'll always be a bigoted arsehole because fifty years of prejudice is hard to break. He'll hurt you again, maybe not physically, but emotionally. When you graduate and he's not there, it'll hurt. When you get married and have kids and he's not there, it'll hurt.

'But the people around you will help, because _they_ love you,' Greg said. 'All you can do is try to... to deal with it, and live your life.' Greg reached out and threaded his fingers through Mycroft's as they both took drags of their cigarettes. 'I'm so, so sorry your dad is the way he is,' Greg told him, 'but I'll always be here for you. I always take care of the people I love.'

Mycroft's head snapped to look at him, and Greg smiled softly.

'I'm here for you, Mycroft,' Greg continued. 'If you want to throw shit and scream, I'll clean up and calm you down. If you want to cry and get depressed, I'll hold you and drag you back up. Anything you want or need, I'll be here for you. Because I know _exactly_ what it's like to have someone who's supposed to love you not give a fuck.' He squeezed Mycroft's fingers. 'I'm here.'

Mycroft flicked his cigarette onto the ground and they both watched as it burnt out. They sat in silence, fingers linked, both thinking about what Greg had just said, about what he'd just revealed.

Mycroft knew there was no one better than Greg to help him through this. Everything Greg had said was right. Greg had lived through it before; his dad had left and broken his heart. And now he was here, offering to go through it all again with Mycroft.

Taking a shaky breath, Mycroft squeezed Greg's fingers. 'Thank you,' he said softly, and his voice came out a croak.

'No worries,' Greg replied.

Mycroft wet his lips and felt tears prickle in his eyes, despite how hard he tried to keep them down. 'I just... I want things to be different,' he choked out.

'I know,' Greg said and shifted closer.

'I hate it,' Mycroft said, 'I hate it all. I hate him and I hate that he can't just love me and be happy for me. I hate that Sherlock is still stuck there for at least another two years. I... I...'

He trailed off and Greg reached out to wrap an arm around his shoulders. Finally Mycroft broke down; the tears fell, his breath caught in his throat, and he buried his face in Greg's chest.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg was feeling exhausted as he and Mycroft walked across the Manor's lawn. Between getting drunk the night before, and everything with Siger fucking Holmes, he just wanted to crawl into bed for a week and sleep. He didn't even care that it was Christmas in a few hours; fuck Christmas.

But he continued to walk, one arm wrapped tightly around Mycroft's waist. Mycroft seemed more tired than Greg, and Greg didn't blame him. He'd ripped open a few knuckles punching Siger Holmes in the face, and the cuts had already started scabbing over and bruising. His hand would be throbbing when he woke up.

They didn't bother going back inside, just rounded the houses and headed for the garage. Most of the guests had parked along the wide driveway, but Anthea's convertible was tucked away, out of sight.

Anthea herself was sitting on the bonnet, and shouted, 'Thank _fuck_!' when she saw them. Mycroft smiled weakly and stepped away from Greg as Anthea launched herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. They hugged for only a few seconds before Anthea pulled away and punched Mycroft in the chest. 'Where the _hell_ were you?' she demanded angrily.

'In the stables,' Mycroft said. He backed away and rubbed his chest.

'Oi, easy on my boyfriend,' Greg told her, and Anthea smiled slightly. 'He's fine, okay? We're both fine.'

'Are you sure?' Anthea asked.

Greg nodded, looking at her pointedly. Anthea pursed her lips but eventually nodded.

'Can you drive us home, please?' Mycroft asked. 'I just want to go to bed.'

'Of course,' Anthea said and dug her keys from her pocket. 'You don't want to talk to your mum or Sherlock before you go?'

Mycroft sighed heavily and pulled out his mobile. 'I'll text Sherlock and call Mother,' he said as Anthea unlocked the door.

They all climbed into the car, Greg and Mycroft in the back. Greg grabbed Mycroft's free hand and squeezed, smiling when Mycroft squeezed back.

The car was silent as Anthea pulled out of the garage and drove down the driveway, eventually turning onto the street. Mycroft tapped at his Blackberry with one hand, no doubt sending a text to Sherlock, before he tapped a few more buttons and pressed the mobile to his ear.

'Mother?' he said, and Greg heard Meghan's raised voice on the other end. 'No, I'm fine,' Mycroft insisted. 'Honestly, I am. Gregory took care of me.' He paused before saying, 'The stables, I just... I needed to get away.' Mycroft looked out the window, and Greg watched him. 'I'll be fine, Mother,' Mycroft sighed. 'Just make sure Sherlock's okay, please? I texted him.'

He frowned suddenly, and his fingers tightened around Greg's.

'Oh,' Mycroft murmured. 'I see... no, that's fine,' he mumbled, shaking his head. 'I just... I wish I could have been the one to tell her.' He sighed again and leaned back, closing his eyes. 'I know, Mother,' he muttered. 'I don't care what he thinks.'

Greg looked away.

'I'll see you soon, okay?' Mycroft said. 'I promise. We'll have lunch or something.' He nodded vaguely, eyes still closed. 'I love you too,' he said before hanging up.

Greg didn't ask what Meghan had said, and Mycroft didn't offer anything. He just slid his phone away and stared out the window again.

Eventually they pulled up outside Greg's house, and Anthea kept the engine running. 'I'll see you two later, yeah?' she said, recognising that Mycroft and Greg both just needed to be alone.

Mycroft nodded and said a soft, 'Thank you.' He leaned over the front seat and kissed Anthea's cheek, smiling slightly at her before getting out of the car.

Greg went to follow, but Anthea said, 'Greg?' He paused and looked at her. 'Take care of him, okay?' Anthea said.

'Of course,' Greg nodded.

Anthea nodded back and Greg climbed out of the convertible. Mycroft was standing on the curb, staring across the street at nothing in particular. Greg shut the door and he and Mycroft both watched Anthea pull away, her car eventually disappearing around the corner.

Mycroft breathed out heavily and said, 'My mother told yours about my past drug addiction.'

'What?' Greg asked, rounding on him.

'She just told me,' Mycroft muttered and rubbed his eyes.

'Hey, Mum won't care,' Greg said. He moved closer and tugged Mycroft's hands away from his face. 'She won't care, Mycroft,' he repeated more firmly.

Mycroft just nodded weakly.

Greg moved back and grabbed Mycroft's hand, squeezing gently. It was Mycroft who linked their fingers tightly together.

'Come on,' Greg said gently, and Mycroft took a deep breath before letting Greg pull him towards the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** Sorry about all the angst, but I have personal experience in regards to a parent leaving. My mum left when I was four and the following eight years she was in and out of my life always causing problems. I finally stopped talking to her when I was twelve. And though I absolutely hate my mother, a part of me still wishes that she'd change and want to get to know me. So that's why Greg says what he says.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, and I appreciate all of the comments and kudos'.
> 
> {Dreamer}


	89. 1, 2, 3, 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** 1, 2, 3, 4 by the Plain White T's
> 
> **Author's Note:** I am so very, very sorry for the long wait. My beta was on holiday, which was why it took me so long to post. Hopefully the content of this chapter makes up for the delay ;)
> 
> Enjoy,
> 
> {Dreamer}

Maggie ended up being more relieved than anything else. After squeezing the absolute stuffing out of them she asked if they needed anything, and when both boys shook their heads no, she sent them to bed.

Greg and Mycroft were more than happy to do so, and stripped to their boxers before climbing into bed. Mycroft fell asleep almost immediately, both physically and emotionally exhausted. Greg laid awake for about an hour or so, just watching Mycroft sleep. The sadness he'd been wearing since the fight with his dad had been smoothed away and replaced with nothing but sleepy content, and Greg couldn't help but just stare at him, knowing that when Mycroft woke up and remembered what happened, he'd be broken again.

But it was okay, because Greg would help him through it. And, as the days passed, the pain would lessen until Mycroft forgot it completely, only remembering when he was reminded. And even then, it would get easier to deal with, to forget. Greg knew from experience.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg was woken by a slight huff from above him, as well as the shoulder he was using as a pillow moving. He groaned and slapped half-heartedly at Mycroft's stomach while burrowing his face into the back of Mycroft's neck.

'Shuddup,' he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. ''m sleepin'.'

'Mm,' was Mycroft's unhelpful response, and the bastard moved _again_.

' _Mycroft_!' Greg whined. 'If you don' stop movin' 'm gonna be...'

'Yes...?' Mycroft prompted, amusement colouring his tone.

'Um... angry,' Greg settled on and pressed his face further into Mycroft's neck. 'Angry, angry, angry... an-gah- _reee_...'

Mycroft chuckled and rolled over, making Greg flop face-first onto the mattress.

'Mycroft!' the older boy snapped and reluctantly opened his eyes. It was early, he could tell from the sunlight streaming through the window. _And_ it was fucking _cold_ now that his Mycroft-shaped pillow had abandoned him. 'I've been abandoned!' Greg announced and crawled his way under the pillow Mycroft had been using.

'You have not,' Mycroft chuckled and inched closer. Greg peered out from under the pillow. Mycroft was smiling at him. 'Hello,' the red-head smirked.

'Fuck you,' Greg grunted. He tried to re-bury himself, using both pillows and the duvet, but Mycroft crawled into his cocoon and laid staring at him in the dark. 'What?' Greg finally asked.

'It's Christmas morning,' Mycroft told him.

The brunette blinked rapidly. 'It is?' he yawned.

'Mm-hmm,' his boyfriend nodded.

'Huh,' Greg murmured. ''kay. Well... there a reason you woke me up at...?'

'Six-thirty,' Mycroft informed him.

'Six- _thirty_?' Greg whined. 'Holy fucking gods I hate you.'

'Gods, huh?' Mycroft chuckled. 'Is there more than one?'

'Yup,' Greg said and pressed his face into the mattress. 'There's Loki and Thor and that Odin bastard and... stuff,' he mumbled.

'That's _The Avengers_ , Gregory,' Mycroft said, and Greg just _knew_ he was rolling his eyes.

'And who says they're not real?' came Greg's muffled voice. 'Maybe there's some sexy Tom Hiddleston look-alike running around usin' magic and bein' all sexy and... stuff.'

'Uh-huh,' Mycroft snorted and nudged Greg with his foot.

'I swear to-'

'All the gods,' Mycroft interrupted.

'I swear to _everything holy_ ,' Greg growled and Mycroft snickered, 'let me go back to sleep!'

'But it's Christmas morning,' Mycroft repeated. 'And I'm actually happy.'

'I'm not,' Greg grumbled, but obediently rolled over when Mycroft nudged him. They swapped positions so that now Mycroft was using Greg as a pillow, and Greg sighed as he wrapped an arm around the taller boy. 'Why are you happy?' he asked after a minute of silence.

'I have you,' was Mycroft's immediate response.

'Oh yeah?' Greg asked. Mycroft nodded against his chest. 'Huh...'

'You make me happy,' Mycroft murmured.

'Yeah?' Greg hummed, and Mycroft nodded again. 'Cool,' Greg said.

Mycroft kissed Greg's chest. 'Go back to sleep.'

'Oh, _now_ you let me,' Greg grumbled, but closed his eyes. He'd question Mycroft's weird behaviour when he was more awake...

'I prefer Chris Hemsworth over Tom Hiddleston,' Mycroft mumbled suddenly.

'Oh _hell_ no!' Greg snapped, and proceeded to give Mycroft a ten-minute lecture on why Tom Hiddleston was _so_ much hotter than Chris Hemsworth until Mycroft shut him up with a kiss and told him to go to sleep.

_Weirdo boyfriend,_ Greg thought sourly as Mycroft fell asleep using him as a pillow.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


The alarm clock said it was 10:47am, and that it was, in fact, still Christmas morning. Greg blinked slowly at the clock, and had to wonder if Mycroft really had woken him up to randomly say he was happy before making stupid comments about Chris Hemsworth and then falling asleep.

Said boyfriend was curled around his back, his entire body moulded to Greg's, and Greg shifted slightly to try and look at him.

Mycroft huffed in annoyance and nuzzled Greg's hair, his breath blowing warm against Greg's neck as he mumbled, 'Stop that, I'm trying to sleep.'

'You fuckin' hypocrite,' Greg yawned.

'Oh... so you remember this morning?' Mycroft asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

'Do I fucking remember... yes, you bastard!'

'Mm, sorry,' Mycroft said. 'I was a bit excited.'

'What are you, four?' Greg asked. 'Who gets excited for Christmas?'

'I do when I don't have to sit at the dining room table acting like a happy family while my father either ignores me or belittles everything I say.'

Greg had no response to that other than, 'Sorry.'

'S'okay,' Mycroft mumbled and pressed a chaste kiss to Greg's neck. 'What time is your mother getting up?'

'She's probably up now,' Greg said as he looked back at the clock. 'She said she was heading to Doctor Phil's around lunch time, and said we could turn up any time between three and six.'

'Mm, I have to give you your present,' Mycroft said.

_That_ woke Greg up. 'You got me a present?' he asked and turned quickly. 'Seriously?'

Mycroft scowled at him for moving, but he couldn't hold it for long. He smiled widely as he said, 'Of course I did.'

'I got you something too,' Greg admitted and blushed slightly. This was it; this was the day he _told Mycroft_. 'So, uh... I'd rather give you yours without my mum around, actually.' He paused before adding, 'Well, the second half of your present, anyway.'

'Second half?' Mycroft questioned.

Greg grinned and jumped out of bed. He grabbed a jumper from the floor- it was Mycroft's, the red-head noted, smiling softly when he saw the sleeves fall over Gregory's hands- and kissed Mycroft quickly before running out of the bedroom.

'Interesting,' Mycroft murmured before deciding he'd better get up too. He grabbed a jumper- one of Gregory's, seeing as how they were swapping clothes- and tugged it on as he made his way from the bedroom. He stopped off in the bathroom before going into the kitchen and finding Maggie reading the paper.

'Good morning, Mycroft,' she smiled brightly. 'Merry Christmas.'

'Merry Christmas to you, too,' Mycroft replied. And, because he was happy, he bent down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. 'Would you like your present now?' he asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

'Oh, Mycroft, you didn't have to get me anything,' the woman said, twisting in her seat to look at him.

'It's nothing special,' Mycroft said, blushing slightly. 'Just... let me get it.' He abandoned his coffee in favour of getting Maggie's gift, and ran into Greg in the hallway carrying something very, very large, wrapped in bright blue Christmas wrapping.

'Er... Merry Christmas?' Greg tried, holding the gift out as best he could.

'Okay...' Mycroft hummed. 'Just let me give your mother her gift and I'll... unwrap that.'

'Oh, yeah, I'll give her mine, too,' Greg said and followed Mycroft to their bedroom. He dumped Mycroft's large gift on the bed and pulled Maggie's wrapped present from under the bed. He and Mycroft exchanged smiles before heading back into the kitchen.

'Oh, boys,' Maggie breathed, smiling widely. 'I don't even know what to say.'

'Open them before you thank us,' Greg grinned. 'What if you hate them?'

Maggie tutted and slapped Greg over the back of the head, making Greg grin and nudge her present closer. Maggie opened Greg's present first and grinned when she found three Beatles records- actual records, not CDs.

'Greg, wow,' Maggie said, smiling widely as she inspected them. 'Thank you so much.'

'Well, you know,' Greg tried to shrug it off, 'we've got a record player, and you prefer 'em over CDs, so...' He grumbled under his breath when Maggie pulled him into a hug and pressed a kiss to his forehead, but he was still smiling when his mum let him go.

'Thank you,' Maggie said sincerely and put the records aside.

She opened Mycroft's gift next and gave him the same smile she'd given Greg; full of love and happiness, just enjoying the fact that Mycroft was there, not even really caring about the gift.

'I needed a new dressing gown,' she said and slipped the one she was wearing off, replacing it with the brand new, fluffy purple one Mycroft had bought her. She also pulled on the slippers that had come with it, and sniffed the perfume Mycroft had stuffed into the bag. 'Thank you, Mycroft,' Maggie said and hugged/kissed him too, making Mycroft blush vividly and Greg grin teasingly at him.

'Shut up,' Mycroft muttered.

'I didn't say anything,' Greg grinned.

'Shut up!' Mycroft repeated and pinched his arm

Greg just chuckled. 'So, Mum, Mycroft's gotta open the first present I got him.'

'Okay,' Maggie nodded. 'Did you two want breakfast, or...?'

'Nah, I'll just make some toast or something later,' Greg waved a dismissive hand. He looked at Mycroft.

'Toast later sounds lovely,' Mycroft smiled and stood when Greg did.

'Thank you, again,' Maggie said. 'You two have fun!' she added and Mycroft blushed again.

'Bloody nosey mothers,' Greg muttered as they re-entered their bedroom. 'Anyway,' he clapped his hands together and gestured at the wrapped gift still sitting on the bed. 'That's, ah, your first gift, and... um... so...'

Mycroft realised Greg was nervous, and raised an eyebrow as his boyfriend fidgeted by the bed. 'I'm sure I'll love it, Gregory.'

'Um, yeah,' Greg nodded and swallowed thickly. 'Right, so... open it?'

'Okay,' Mycroft chuckled and made his way over to the present. He remained standing as he tore at the wrapping paper and tape, getting bits stuck to his fingers before dumping the lot on the desk. It was only after he'd torn all the paper free that Mycroft realised what Greg had gotten him. 'Oh my God,' he breathed, his eyes widening in surprise.

It was a portable Yamaha keyboard; brand new, in a simple brown box. But it was... a _keyboard_. Gregory had bought him a _keyboard._

'I just, um...' Greg started rambling when Mycroft remained silent, just staring at the box. 'You love playing piano, but there's no place for one in the house, ya know? So I figured a keyboard would work, right? You can at least play, even if it's not as good as an actual piano, and- _mmf_.'

He was cut off when Mycroft whirled around and tugged him into a messy, slightly painful kiss; their teeth clashed and Mycroft made a point to bite at Greg's lips and squeeze his arse as he dragged his boyfriend roughly against him.

They snogged- or ate each other's faces, either worked- for a good few minutes before the need for air forced them apart. Greg blinked rapidly as he tried to catch his breath, staring at Mycroft, who was in turn staring at him.

'Gregory,' Mycroft managed to choke out, 'I can't believe you did this.'

'Did I do something wrong?' Greg asked nervously. ''Cause I can take it back if you-'

He was cut off by another kiss, this one slower, gentle, a kiss that told Greg he'd _definitely_ done the right thing (and would no doubt be getting some fabulous Christmas sex when they were alone).

'This is... I can't believe...' Mycroft turned away to stare at the keyboard again, as though it might have vanished while they were kissing. ' _Gregory_ ,' Mycroft gaped, blue eyes round when he looked back at Greg. 'God, I lo-' Mycroft cut himself off, unsure if it was too soon to exchange those words. Instead he grabbed Greg by the arms and said, 'Come here.'

Greg went willingly, and he gripped Mycroft's hips as the taller boy crushed their mouths together again, Mycroft licking his way into Greg's mouth for another toe-curling kiss. Mycroft slowly backed Greg into the wardrobe, pushing until their bodies were flushed together and their lips began to get swollen and bruised.

Greg was sure Mycroft was going to have him right there against their wardrobe, but the genius pulled back slowly, their lips brushing together as he spoke. 'Thank you,' he said, eyes locked onto Greg's. 'I can't even... you... you're just _amazing_ , do you know that?'

'Yeah, I'm pretty awesome,' Greg grinned and Mycroft chuckled.

'You are,' Mycroft agreed and kissed Greg again. 'I can't believe you did this,' he continued when they'd broken apart again. 'This is the best, most thoughtful present I have _ever_ received. You have no idea just what you've given me, you...' He seemed to think kissing was a good way to thank Greg when he ran out of things to say, and Greg was totally okay with that.

They were still making out when Maggie rapped her knuckles on the open door, interrupting them and making the two flush even more when they stepped away from each other.

'Everything okay in here?' she asked in amusement.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

'Gregory bought me a keyboard,' Mycroft grinned brightly.

'I know,' Maggie chuckled. 'I drove him to the store to pick it up. So you like it, then?'

'Yes, it's... I can't even... it's just...' Mycroft threw his hands up, still lost for words, and Maggie laughed again.

'Well, as long as you're happy,' she said. 'I made toast, I want you two to eat before exchanging any more gifts and thanking each other by getting naked.'

' _Mum_!' Greg groaned while Mycroft flushed a bright shade of pink. Seriously, his mother had _no_ shame when teasing him about his sex life.

'Yeah, yeah,' Maggie waved a hand at them. 'Just go eat while I get changed; I'm heading to Phil's early to help out.'

'Fine,' Greg sighed and looked at Mycroft.

'I'll give you your gifts after we eat,' Mycroft said.

'Gifts, huh?' Greg asked, following Mycroft from the bedroom. 'As in _plural_?'

'Yes,' Mycroft said. 'Though I don't think they'll be anywhere near as good as your gift.'

'I'm sure I'll love them,' Greg said honestly. Really, _any_ gift from Mycroft would be awesome, regardless of what it was. Hell, Mycroft could just give him sex for Christmas and Greg would be ecstatic.

'We'll see,' Mycroft said as they headed into the kitchen.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


After eating, Mycroft and Greg headed back into their bedroom for round two of gift giving. Mycroft pulled two wrapped presents from under the bed, and Greg wondered how the hell he hadn't noticed them when he'd hidden his mum's present under there.

Mycroft handed him the first one and Greg eagerly tore at the wrapping paper.

'Oh my God, _awesome_ ,' Greg breathed, holding up a Green Day hooded jumper as well as a t-shirt. The hoodie was _American Idiot_ themed, one that Greg recognised from Green Day's website. It was black, and had “Green Day's American Idiot” written across the front, with five white stars on each sleeve. On the back was the white fist clasping a red hand-grenade that had been on the cover of the album.

The t-shirt was black with a neon pink and white picture of two guitars, a drum-set, and amps, with “Green Day” and “21st Century Breakdown” written across the amps.

All in all, the two pieces of clothing were _fucking awesome_ , and Greg set them aside carefully before throwing himself at his boyfriend for a thorough snog. They almost knocked Mycroft's keyboard off the bed, and had to stop to hastily lean it against the desk and floor before going back to their snogging.

When their lips were nice and swollen, and their hair and pyjamas dishevelled, Mycroft pushed Greg up with a smile and said, 'Don't forget your other present.'

'Oh, yeah,' Greg blushed and climbed off his boyfriend. 'Seriously, though, this is enough,' he added, holding up the shirt and hoodie. 'I mean, this is just awesome.'

Mycroft chuckled and picked up the other package; small and square, Greg had a feeling it was a CD.

It was two CDs, actually; _¡Dos!_ by Green Day and _White Noise_ by The Living End. Greg grinned widely and set them both aside. 'Thank you, Mycroft,' he said and leaned over to kiss his boyfriend. 'Seriously, best Christmas presents _ever._ No matter ever gets me band stuff or fandom merch.'

'They weren't as thoughtful as yours,' Mycroft murmured and glanced at the keyboard sitting against the desk.

'Hey, yes they were,' Greg said. 'I _love_ Green Day, and I only have, like, two shirts; one from the first and only time I saw them live, and another I bought in some cheap store for, like, ten quid. The jumper is fucking _awesome_ , Myc, and you know I love CDs. Awesome presents, okay? _And_ thoughtful.'

Mycroft opened his mouth to continue arguing, but Greg interrupted before he could; with his tongue. Mycroft hummed and let himself be tilted back as Greg climbed onto his lap, already rocking, his eyes closed as he thoroughly snogged all thoughts of arguing from Mycroft's mind.

And, of course, they were once again interrupted by Maggie.

'I'm heading off!' she said as Greg scrambled off of Mycroft. 'You two behave,' she winked, and smirked when Greg scowled at her. 'No later than three, Gregory,' Maggie added, and didn't move until both teenagers had nodded.

Greg waited until he heard the front door shut before clearing his throat. 'So, uh... I got you something else, remember?'

Mycroft blinked and had to push aside his thoughts of sex and Gregory's lips to remember what his partner was talking about. 'Oh, right,' he said. 'We _could_ have sex, and then you could give me my other present.'

'Um... I'd rather give you the present first,' Greg murmured. He blushed faintly when Mycroft raised an eyebrow, but finally the red-head nodded and sat up.

'Okay,' he said. 'Hurry up, so we can have sex.'

'You're so charming,' Greg rolled his eyes.

'You love it,' Mycroft smirked.

Greg just laughed and stood, stretching a bit as he headed towards... Mycroft's guitars? The genius frowned as Greg lifted Mycroft's blue acoustic guitar from the stand. Mycroft kept his electric guitars in their cases propped up between the wardrobe and the corner of the bedroom, but he played his acoustic enough that he left it on it's stand. Why was Gregory...?

Greg told Mycroft to sit on the edge of the bed, and he went to the dresser to fiddle with the CD player with his free hand. 'So, uh...' Greg said without turning, 'remember ages ago when you asked about the callouses on my fingers and why I was learning guitar?'

'Yes...' Mycroft said slowly.

'I said I had a plan,' Greg continued, grabbing a pick from the box Mycroft kept on the dresser. 'This is, um, that plan... and I thought of it ages ago, which is good, 'cause it took me ages just to learn the bloody chords needed to play the song. And I still suck, so, uh... don't hate me for screwing it up, 'kay?'

'Gregory, what are-'

'Just listen,' Greg interrupted. He quickly pressed a button on the CD player and rushed to sit on their desk chair, spinning it across the wooden floor until he was sitting before Mycroft. Soft music started playing from the CD player as Greg quickly arranged his fingers on the strings.

'One, two- one, two, three, four,' Greg murmured as he dully strummed before the song really started; he picked at the strings a bit sloppily, but it was clear that he'd practised, and Mycroft smiled as he listened.

'Give me more lovin' then I've ever _haad_ , make it all better when I'm feelin' _saad_ , tell me that I'm special even when I know I'm _noot_ ,' Greg sang softly over his playing- now chords rather than plucking- and over the CD.

'Make me feel good when I hurt so bad, barely gettin' mad, I'm so glad I found _yoou_ ,' Greg continued, his eyes glued to the fingers he had pressed to the neck of the guitar, 'I love bein' around _you_...'

It took Mycroft a second, but when he recognised the song he almost fell off the bed; _1, 2, 3, 4_ by the Plain White T's.

'You make it _eeassy_ ,' Greg sang, and Mycroft felt his mouth go dry, 'it's as easy as one, two- one, two, three, four-'

Greg finally looked up at Mycroft, and their eyes locked as Greg sang the chorus.

'There's only one thing, to do, three words, for _yooou_ ,' Greg sang, staring at Mycroft carefully, 'I _loove yoou_...'

'Oh,' Mycroft breathed out heavily, his eyes widening.

'There's only one way, to say, those three words, and that's what I'll _doo_...' Greg sang, 'I love _yoouu_...'

It was in no was perfect; Greg's strumming pattern was slightly off, and his fingers slipped up on the strings, making the chords slightly different. And his singing was rough, his voice not quite right for the song.

But to Mycroft it was amazing. Just the fact that Greg had gone to the trouble to learn a song for him, a song that said _I love you_ , was simply incredible. It was the single most perfect, beautiful gift Mycroft Holmes had ever received.

Greg was back to staring at his fingers as they moved on the guitar, not comfortable enough playing the song to rely on muscle memory.

'Give me more lovin' from the very start, piece me back together when I fall apart, tell me things you'd never even tell your closest _frieenndss_...' Greg sang, and Mycroft felt his heart skip a beat. Christ, he felt like _crying_. 'Make me feel good when I hurt so bad, best that I've had, I'm so glad I found _yoouu_...' Greg sang along, 'I love bein' around _yoou_... you make it _easy_... it's easy as one, two- one, two, three, four-

'-one thing, to do, three words, for _yooou_...' Greg looked back up at Mycroft, and sang the next few words in such a clear, serious voice, that Mycroft felt his eyes prickle, ' _I love you_. There's only one way, to say, those three words, and that's what I'll _doo_... I love _yoouu_.... _I loove yoouu_...'

Greg tried his very best to play the guitar solo, he really did.

'Fuck,' Greg cursed when he once again plucked the wrong string. 'Hang on... um... one, two, three... four...'

Mycroft laughed, but not _at_ Greg; he grinned and sniffed and had to fight back the tears. Because this- _this right here_ \- was what made this entire moment perfect; Greg screwing up, swearing, playing the wrong chords and strings, having to count out the beat, not really being able to sing in time... _this_ was what made everything amazing.

Because Greg was real and human and he fucking _loved_ Mycroft Holmes. The boy Mycroft had first been attracted to, then had fancied, and had finally fallen in love with; Greg Lestrade, with his messy hair and clothes, his foul mouth and addiction to cigarettes and alcohol, his charming smile and dark brown eyes and large, soft fingers... he _loved_ Mycroft; he was honest to God, 100%, _in love_ with Mycroft Holmes.

The young man Mycroft had spent every spare moment with for the past four months; the boy who had made him laugh and smile and feel pleasure; the absolutely wonderful guy who had tried to learn a goddamn _song_ just to tell Mycroft how he felt.

And there hadn't been any hesitation; no doubt or fear or _anything_. Greg loved him, and this was him telling Mycroft. This was him handing Mycroft his heart and trusting the genius to take care of it, to take care of _him_ , to love him in return.

It was just like when Mycroft had played a song for Greg all those weeks ago; when Mycroft had picked up his guitar and played _A Lonely September_ for Greg, trying to tell the other teenager how he felt. Greg had gotten it, had understood, and now he was doing the same thing; showing Mycroft how he felt through music.

The tears finally fell and Mycroft smiled through them. His heart pumped painfully fast in his chest as Greg continued to incorrectly strum, as he screwed up a few of the chords, his voice stalling as he cursed and bit his lip.

Greg had his tongue poked between his teeth, but it disappeared when he started singing again;

'You make it _eeasy_... it's easy as one, two- one, two, three four- _one_ thing, to do, three words, for _yoouu_...' Greg looked back up at him. 'I love _yoou_.'

Mycroft laughed through his smile, and Greg winked at him.

'There's only one way, to say, those three words, that's what I'll _doo_... I love _yoou_...' Greg wasn't even trying to pick the strings this time; he just played the chords, smiling at Mycroft as he did. 'I love _yoou_...' Greg hummed.

And suddenly, the song was ending, and Mycroft wiped at his eyes as Greg played the last chords and hummed the last few lyrics.

'One... two... three... four...' Greg sang. 'I love _yoouu_...' He smiled at Mycroft and said it one last time, 'I love _yooouu..._ '

The song was over, and the CD skipped back around to replay the song. Greg jumped to his feet to turn it off, and when the room was silent he shuffled back to the desk chair.

'So... um... yeah,' Greg said lamely, shifting his feet and picking at the strings. Mycroft was still a bit speechless, so Greg started to ramble. 'I just, you know, realised a while ago how I really feel about you, and I wanted a way to say it, and you played that awesome song for me ages ago, before we were dating, telling me how you felt, so I thought it'd be cool to do the same thing, and I know it was probably crap- I mean I _really_ can't play- but I thought it'd be, you know, nice- and I didn't say it so you'd say it back, you don't have to, I just wanted you to know-'

Greg finally shut up when Mycroft sat forward, lifting the guitar from his hands and leaning it against their desk. Greg stared at him, lips pursed, and when Mycroft turned back he simply said, 'Say it.'

Greg blinked.

'Say it, Gregory,' Mycroft repeated.

Greg took a deep breath. 'I love you.'

Mycroft crushed their lips together and Greg blinked in surprise, but kissed back hesitantly. When they broke apart Mycroft grinned.

'Um...'

'I love you too,' Mycroft blurted.

'Uh... yeah?' Greg asked, a goofy grin spreading across his face.

'I really do,' Mycroft nodded. 'And I'm not saying it just because you did. I love you, Gregory.'

Greg's grin, if possible, widened. 'Awesome.'

Mycroft chuckled.

'So, uh...'

'That was beautiful,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah? I thought it was horrible,' Greg admitted.

Mycroft smiled. 'You only just started playing, and yes you stuffed up a few times, but it was the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.' He leaned forward to kiss Greg again.

When they broke apart Greg immediately started talking.

'I love you, Mycroft,' he said honestly, staring at his boyfriend. 'I didn't want this to be like before, when I denied that I fancied you. When I realised I loved you, I wanted to tell you. And... this was my way of telling you.'

Mycroft smiled. 'It was beautiful, Gregory. Thank you so much.'

'No worries,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft was still smiling when he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Greg's. They kissed softly for a few minutes before Mycroft pulled away to say, 'I love you,' again.

'I love you too,' Greg repeated, feeling like an idiot. But those three simple words made his stomach jolt, and if the blush on Mycroft's face was anything to go by, he felt the same way. 'Um... so I get Christmas sex, right?' Greg asked suddenly.

Mycroft pushed him back onto the bed and grabbed Greg's pillow.

'No, have mercy!' Greg shouted when Mycroft started hitting him.

'Never!' Mycroft replied.

The two giggled and hit each other with Greg's pillows until they were tired out.


	90. Wonderwall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Wonderwall by Oasis
> 
>  **Author's Note:** Here's the chapter that many, many people have been asking for. I was gonna call it “The One Where Greg Finally Bottoms”, but Wonderwall fit as well :p Thanks to everyone who's commented or left kudos, I really appreciate them all :)
> 
> Also, the translations for the French parts of this chapter are in the notes at the end.
> 
> Enjoy,
> 
> {Dreamer}

At some point, their touches became less silly and more purposeful; their kisses became less sneaky and lingered longer; the pillows they'd been hitting each other with were abandoned or shoved hastily under Greg's head as Mycroft straddled him. The red-head's hands were already under Greg's jumper and shirt, his fingers trailing softly along Greg's stomach and ribs, his thumbs brushing a nipple every so often and making Greg shiver in pleasure.

Mycroft moved from sucking a particularly dark hickey onto Greg's neck to kiss his boyfriend again. It was soft, and warm, their lips already swelling from their earlier snogs. Mycroft slowly pried Greg's lips open and the brunette moaned as their tongues slid against each other.

It was at least another minute before they pulled apart and both were breathing heavily. Mycroft let his eyes trail down Greg's flushed face and puffy lips, to the thin sheen of sweat that was now making his neck look slick and inviting. Mycroft ducked down to lick a strip from Greg's Adam's apple up to his jaw and Greg groaned, letting his head tip back.

'Will you- _ah_ ,' Greg groaned when Mycroft's teeth dug into his earlobe.

'Mm?' Mycroft hummed, his breath blowing across Greg's ear.

'Will you...' Greg tried to get out again, 'uh... f-fuck me?'

Mycroft pulled back to look down at him.

'Please?' Greg begged- he was _so_ not above begging. 'I'd really, really like it if you fucked me.' He paused and tilted his head. 'Or is it, um... can we please _not_ call it “making love”?' he asked, and Mycroft laughed. 'No, seriously,' Greg continued, 'it sounds so fucking cheesy.'

'How about we _make love_...' Mycroft drawled, and Greg groaned in annoyance, 'but just continue to call it sex, hmm?'

'Ah...' Greg blinked as Mycroft's teeth grazed along his neck and jaw, 'Yeah, you know what? Call it whatever the fuck you want, as long as you stick your cock in me.'

'As charming as always, Gregory.'

' _Please_ ,' Greg begged again. 'I love our current sex life, but at some point I'd _really_ like it if you'd fuck me.'

Rather than answer his question, Mycroft just said, 'I love you,' and went back to sucking on Greg's neck.

Greg groaned, because seriously, what was he supposed to say to that? Other than, 'I love you, too.' The smile Mycroft gave him made Greg's heart hurt- but in a good way. Like it was going to burst with all the feelings it had. Greg was being sappy, he knew, but quite frankly he didn't give a fuck. He was in love, he was allowed to act all giddy, right?

Mycroft's fingers were suddenly sliding under the waistband of Greg's pyjama bottoms, and Greg lifted his head to look down. Mycroft smiled slyly at him before tugging and Greg lifted his hips, letting both his pyjamas and pants be pulled down and dropped on the floor.

'I can definitely get on board with this,' Greg said and thrust his hips up to prove his point.

Mycroft chuckled and stepped off the bed. 'Take your jumper and shirt off,' he said as he freed himself from his own clothes, and Greg was hasty to reply. He laid down atop the duvet completely naked and couldn't help but fist his erection, watching as Mycroft's eyes darted to his erect cock.

Greg licked his lips, his own eyes roaming over the red-head before resting on his dick. Mycroft was smooth, like usual, and Greg had to bite his bottom lip not to moan. Fuck, sometimes he forgot how big Mycroft really was; he was far bigger than anyone Greg had been with before. Luckily he'd been wanting this for a while; if he hadn't been preparing himself over the last week or two, there's no chance in hell he'd fit Mycroft in without some serious pain in the days following.

Mycroft seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because he paused after he'd pulled the lube from their bedside drawer and set a box of tissues beside the alarm clock. 'Gregory...'

'Mm?' Greg hummed, his eyes still trailing over Mycroft's pale body. His freckles were mostly spread out over his shoulders and arms, but there were a few clusters of dots on one hip, over his right knee, and near his erection. 'What?' he asked, flicking his eyes up to Mycroft's when the younger boy didn't answer.

'The last time I used my fingers on you was months ago,' Mycroft said. Greg's brain immediately threw up images of himself on his back, spread out over the couch, with Mycroft's tongue in his arse. Oh, _that_ had been a good evening.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

Mycroft frowned. 'You'll get hurt if I fuck you now,' he said and sat on the edge of the bed, 'so I should probably only use my fingers.'

Greg groaned and let his head tip back. 'Mycroft-'

'I don't want to hurt you,' Mycroft interrupted.

'I've, uh...' Greg wriggled a bit and finally let go of his cock, letting it flop onto his stomach, still hard. He looked up at Mycroft as he said, 'Why do you think my showers have been taking so long?'

Mycroft raised his eyebrows. 'You mean you-'

'Yeah,' Greg interrupted. 'You're bigger than any guy I've slept with before, and it's been a while since I bottomed, so I've... you know, been stretching myself.'

Mycroft's eyes slid shut as images of Greg assaulted his mind; Gregory in the shower, leaning against the wall and moaning, his hand twisted behind him; Gregory in their bed, flat on his back, his fingers jammed into his own arse, his other hand wrapped around his cock; Gregory, using his fingers, three or four, to spread himself open, just for Mycroft.

'Fuck,' Mycroft hissed and pounced to give Greg a biting kiss before drawing away. He grabbed the bottle of lube before getting back on the bed. As he poured a generous amount onto his palm, Greg spread his legs, letting the taller boy shift between them. 'I'm still using my fingers first,' Mycroft said as he warmed the gel between his hands before slicking his fingers.

'Yeah, whatever, just get them in me,' Greg ordered.

Mycroft trailed his left hand from Greg's ankle up to his knee and down his inner-thigh, smiling when Greg shivered and spread his legs even wider. Mycroft grabbed one of their pillows and the brunette obediently let Mycroft shove it under his hips.

Mycroft spread the cool gel around Greg's hole, making sure Greg was relaxed before pushing a finger in. He stopped at the first knuckle and looked up at Greg, but the older boy just rolled his hips and huffed, 'Get on with it!'

Chuckling, Mycroft pushed his entire finger in before starting a gentle thrusting motion, circling his finger to slowly open up Greg's muscles. 'Patience, Gregory dear.'

'Fuck me, Mycroft darling,' Greg retorted.

Mycroft snorted. 'Usually you say “fuck you”.'

Greg rolled his eyes and nudged his boyfriend with one knee. 'But I want you to fuck _me_. So hurry up and shove another finger in there- I'm not gonna break.'

Mycroft just smiled and continued his slow, gentle rhythm. Thoughts were racing through his mind- _God, he's so fucking tight- I'm actually going to fuck Gregory- Jesus, he's squeezing on purpose- Gregory loves me!- oh God, I'm gonna come as soon as I get in there_ \- but he tried to ignore them all in favour of stretching his boyfriend open.

Greg chewed on his bottom lip as he tried to stop himself from thrusting down on Mycroft's fingers. Despite having worked himself open the last few nights, he knew he still needed to be stretched properly- Mycroft was fucking big, and it'd been _so_ long.

His heart rate quickened when Mycroft inserted a second finger, and then a third. They were longer than Greg's own fingers and went deeper, only brushing along his prostate before retreating. Greg groaned and squeezed his inner-muscles, grinning to himself when Mycroft whimpered and stabbed at his prostate.

'Fucking hell!' Greg shouted. His legs fell further apart and he started thrusting down, too horny to keep control of himself. Fucking yourself with your own fingers was very different to having someone else do it, and Mycroft's body was a warm presence between his legs. His free hand was rubbing up and down Greg's leg, his inner-thigh, and even brushing over his balls and cock every time he pressed against Greg's prostate.

It was making Greg's cock bounce back to attention, leaking pre-come steadily down his shaft and onto his stomach. Greg moaned and picked his head up to look at Mycroft. He would have come at the sight of Mycroft kneeling before him, watching as his fingers disappeared into Greg's greedy hole, if his self-control was any weaker.

As it was, he was still only seventeen-years-old, and despite how much sex they'd been having since they'd first kissed, Greg was young; it had been far too long since he'd had something any bigger than his own fingers inside him, so Greg lifted one of his legs and wrapped it as best he could around Mycroft's back.

Mycroft's blue eyes, now darker with want, flicked up to Greg as the shorter teen said, ' _Please fuck me_.'

'Are you sure you're ready?' Mycroft asked, his voice hoarse. Greg nodded quickly and Mycroft withdrew his fingers. 'Okay.'

'Thank God,' Greg moaned and let his leg fall back to the bed.

Mycroft chuckled but was quick to grab the lube. He dribbled a good amount onto his palm before rubbing it over his cock, Greg watching with hooded eyes. He pushed Greg's leg aside with one hand, gripped his shaft loosely with the other, and moved to press the head of his cock against Greg's dilated entrance.

'Are you sure you're ready?' he asked before it became too difficult to stop. Just the knowledge that he was going to be _in_ Gregory was enough to make him lose his mind.

' _Yes_!' Greg hissed. 'I'll tell you if I'm not, now please, just- _aaah_!'

Mycroft had already pushed in and both teenagers groaned as Mycroft's prick was easily swallowed by Greg's warm, tight heat. Mycroft cursed, first in English, then in what sounded like French, and finally Spanish. Greg knew Mycroft spoke other languages, but he'd never done so during sex, and _damn if it didn't turn Greg the fuck on_.

'Jesus Christ,' Greg gasped when Mycroft had slid the last inch or so into him. Their hips rested together, Mycroft's balls pressed tight against Greg's skin, and both let out the breath they hadn't realised they were holding. 'Jesus _Christ_ ,' Greg repeated.

Mycroft was definitely the largest guy Greg had ever bottomed for, and he was hovering wonderfully between pleasure and pain; a deep, burning of his muscles that made the pleasure that much more sharper and glorious.

'Are you...' Mycroft had to pause to take another breath, 'are you okay?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. He looked up at Mycroft and grabbed onto his shoulders as he shifted a bit, feeling Mycroft move deep inside him. 'Just, ah,' Greg added, 'give us a minute, yeah? You're _really_ fucking big.'

Mycroft huffed a laugh but stayed still. His hands were now pressed either side of Greg's head, his fingers bunching the duvet beneath them. Every single bit of his body was telling him to thrust hard and fast and fuck Greg until he came. But Greg needed to be eased into it, and the last thing Mycroft wanted was to hurt his boyfriend.

Greg moaned softly as he moved a bit. 'Have you always been this big? Fuck.'

'Yes,' Mycroft answered. 'I thought you liked how big my cock is?'

Greg chuckled and peeled his eyes open to look up into Mycroft's. 'I do,' he said and rolled his hips a bit. 'I like when you fuck my mouth, or my fist. I like when you fist our cocks together and tug until we both come.'

Mycroft whimpered and pushed forward a bit, his cock nudging in that bit more before dragging back out.

'Love you... uh, in me,' Greg mumbled. His fingers flexed on Mycroft's shoulders, his nails digging into flesh just slightly. 'Fuckin' love it,' he added.

'Can I move?' Mycroft asked through grit teeth. God, Greg was tight and hot and he was purposely getting tighter, Mycroft just knew it.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'But promise me you'll swear in other languages again- that was fuckin' hot.'

Mycroft chuckled, but quickly sobered when he drew half out only to push back in. Both teenagers moaned as Mycroft set up a gentle, easy rhythm, Greg's muscles easily relaxing as Greg melted back into the bed.

'Holy fuck,' he moaned. 'Fuck, Mycroft, that feels good.'

'Uh-huh,' was all Mycroft was capable of saying. He had to stop after a few minutes to apply more lube, but after that it was smooth sailing. Greg wrapped an arm around Mycroft's neck and drew him down for a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, the two more bumping their mouths against each other's and sharing breath than really snogging.

Greg started moaning more vocally when Mycroft drew all the way out and pushed back in. His muscles tightened, drawing out a ragged gasp from the red-head. 'Yeah, harder!' Greg said when Mycroft thrust into his tight heat. 'Fuck me, _harder_!' he begged.

'Oh God,' Mycroft grit out as he moved faster and faster. He grabbed Greg's legs and lifted them over his shoulders, making Greg shout and moan and whimper all at the same time as he was practically bent in two. His arse lifted off the pillow as Mycroft fucked into him, and Greg tightened his arms around Mycroft to pull him down again.

He stuck his tongue into Mycroft's mouth and they moaned together. The bed creaked beneath them to their rhythm, and the room was filled with the slick wet sound of them fucking, as well as skin slapping against skin and the two grunting, moaning, and panting against each other.

'That's it,' Mycroft moaned as he thrust particularly hard. ' _Mange ma bite_ ,' he then added in French, making Greg moan and laugh at the same time.

'Again,' he begged as he angled his hips up, trying to get Mycroft deeper.

' _Mange ma bite_ ,' Mycroft moaned against his cheek. 'You're a... oh fuck,' Mycroft groaned as Greg tightened around him, ' _petite pute_.'

' _Viens m'enculer_ ,' Greg replied, and it made Mycroft swear harshly in Italian- or some other language, Greg really wasn't paying attention. He grabbed Greg's hips and fucked into him, harder and harder, his eyes dark and narrowed as he watched his cock disappear into Greg. 'Jesus,' Greg moaned, 'me speakin' French turn- _fuck_ \- ah... turn you on?'

'Uh-huh,' Mycroft managed to get out.

' _Viens m'enculer_ ,' Greg repeated. He felt Mycroft hit his prostate and moaned loudly as he pushed down. ' _Putain_!'

'God, Greg,' Mycroft gasped, and Greg knew his boyfriend was really beginning to lose it. Not only were his thrusts getting harder and wilder- less controlled- but he rarely ever called him Greg.

'Come on,' Greg groaned and threaded his fingers through Mycroft's hair. He tugged the red-head down at the same time that he arched up, using his legs to change the angle of Mycroft's thrusts.

Now every push was driving Mycroft's dick into Greg's prostate, and it made fresh pleasure spread through Greg's body, building and building until all he could focus on was every inch of Mycroft pressed against and into his own body.

'Fuck me,' Greg begged, 'harder, come on! _Viens m'enculer_!'

'Shit,' Mycroft cursed. He gripped Greg's hips, hard enough to bruise, and only let go to snake one hand between them. He managed to wrap his fingers around Greg's cock and tug roughly, making Greg swear and dig his nails into Mycroft's skin hard enough to draw blood.

'Fuck!' Greg shouted. 'Fuck, Mycroft, harder! I'm gonna come, _putain de merde_!'

Mycroft was great as a bottom, but fucking fantastic as a top. It was like he'd been holding back every single time they'd had sex, and now he completely let go. It was, without a doubt, the very best sex Greg had ever had. He felt like he was being broken apart, piece by piece, from the inside and out.

Mycroft's cock hammered into him over and over again, abusing his prostate in the very best way. He was panting above Greg as he drove himself into the brunette's body, and his eyes alternated between watching himself disappear into Greg, and watching Greg's face as he broke down.

'M-Mycroft,' Greg whimpered as Mycroft struck his prostate and tugged on his cock at the same time, his thumb either spreading pre-come across the slit or pushing his foreskin forward and back. 'I'm... ah... _merde,_ _Mycroft_!'

Greg finally felt the heat curling in his guy erupt, making him come long and hard as Mycroft fucked the orgasm from him. He moaned and writhed, his body twisting and arching and basically shattering as he climaxed.

Mycroft continued to thrust into his increasingly tight heat until he suddenly pulled back, letting Greg's legs slide back to the bed. He abandoned Greg's still twitching cock in favour of grabbing his boyfriend's hips and jamming himself back in, over and over again.

'Greg,' he gasped as he bent over the older boy, his face buried in Greg's neck.

'Holy hell,' Greg moaned. 'Mycroft...' The red-head started swearing in French, and Greg wrapped his arms firmly around his boyfriend. 'That's it, fuck me,' he breathed out heavily. ' _Viens m'enculer_ , Mycroft.'

Mycroft's hips stuttered, and his breath caught in his throat. Greg's muscles tightened one last time around him and finally Mycroft tumbled over the edge. He felt Greg's muscles milk his cock, and the feeling of warm flesh wrapped around him without a condom was enough to make Mycroft moan and slip into Spanish, then German, and finally French once again.

He continued to mutter in other languages against Greg's skin as his hips moved slowly, gently, trying to draw out his orgasm as long as he could. When Mycroft finally drew back it was gently, but Greg still hissed as he was left open and empty. Mycroft looked down at him for a few seconds, the two breathing heavily, before pressing a quick kiss to Greg's lips and dropping onto the bed beside him.

' _Merde_ ,' Greg muttered and it made Mycroft smile into the pillow. 'Seriously, Mycroft, just... _shit_.'

Mycroft rolled over as best he could and drew Greg in. His lips pressed against Greg's, longer this time, but still gentle. He gently worked Greg's mouth open until they were swapping saliva and breath, their eyes closed as they kissed. Mycroft's hands were warm and slightly damp against Greg's skin. He rubbed Greg's shoulders and arms, his chest and down to his hips, too, though thankfully avoided Greg's still sensitive cock and aching arse.

Greg hummed under his breath. It felt like Mycroft had broken him apart, piece by piece, until he finally shattered. And then, in the aftermath, he re-built him with each kiss and hug, each smile and hum. Greg's body continued to unwind and cool as they kissed. They eventually broke apart, but only to clean up. After Mycroft had cleared the mess they'd made, the couple climbed under the duvet and snuggled together, Mycroft's arms firm around the shorter boy, Greg cuddled into his chest.

When Greg's heart had finally stopped trying to burst from his chest, he breathed out a heavy, 'Fucking hell.'

'Hmm?' Mycroft had been dozing beside him and shifted a bit to look down at his boyfriend. 'Something wrong?'

'Ha,' Greg laughed, 'no, definitely _not_.' He shook his head and pressed a few quick kisses to Mycroft's chest. 'Where've you been hiding him, then?'

'What are you talking about?' Mycroft asked.

'Oh, come on,' Greg said and pushed himself up on one elbow. Mycroft was frowning up at him. 'That was, without a doubt, _the_ best sex I've ever had.'

A smug smile tugged at Mycroft's lips.

'Shut up, it was,' Greg said as he nudged the red-head. 'I mean, every time we have sex it's fucking awesome, but that... _that_...' He really didn't know how to explain it.

'I prefer being on top, as you well know,' Mycroft said, 'I suppose I'm just better at it.'

'Mm,' Greg hummed and laid back down. The burn in his muscles and arse _definitely_ agreed with Mycroft's words. 'We're doin' it again when I can move more.'

Mycroft chuckled and wrapped an arm firmly around him again, dragging Greg back against his chest.

'You speak in other languages when you fuck someone,' Greg mumbled tiredly.

'No,' Mycroft replied. 'Just you, it seems.'

Greg smiled against his chest. ' _Bon_ ,' he murmured.

' _Bien_ ,' Mycroft replied, making Greg chuckle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:** I researched using various websites and didn't use Google Translate 'cause it's a bitch. So here are the translations based on more than one website I visited. If any native French-speakers think something's wrong, let me know.
> 
> So, the words/phrases roughly translate as;
> 
>  _Mange ma bite_ – eat my dick
> 
>  _Petite pute_ – little whore
> 
>  _Viens m'enculer_ – fuck me/fuck my ass
> 
>  _Merde_ – shit
> 
>  _Putain_ – fuck/whore
> 
>  _Putain de merde_ – fucking hell/fucking shit/fuck me
> 
>  _Bon/Bien_ – good/well


	91. Carol of the Bells

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
>  **Chapter Title:** Carol of the Bells by August Burns Red

Eventually, Mycroft and Greg had to get up. They jumped into the shower together, too tired to do anything but exchange soft kisses and gentle touches.

'My mum makes no sense,' Greg complained as he scrubbed a towel through his hair. 'For _weeks_ she's been telling me to get to Doctor Phil's between three and six, and now it's “no later than three, Gregory”. What the hell?'

Mycroft smiled. He glanced up while buttoning his shirt, looking at Greg's reflection in the mirror. 'It's Christmas, Gregory.'

'So?'

'It's a time to be loving and kind to all those around you,' Mycroft said.

Greg rolled his eyes. 'Whatever, Father Christmas.' The red-head chuckled. 'Anyway, I bet Mum just wants to show Doctor Phil that I'm a good kid.'

Frowning, Mycroft said, 'You _are_ a good kid.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'Well, most of the time.'

'You _are_ ,' Mycroft insisted.

'So... the drinking and smoking and shagging anything that moves?' Greg questioned.

Mycroft smiled as he crossed the room. He wrapped his arms around Greg's waist and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. 'All of that is just a cover, Gregory dear,' he stated. 'You have a rough exterior, but that just covers a gooey marshmellow centre.'

Greg burst out laughing, but Mycroft ignored him.

'And Doctor Phil knows that,' Mycroft continued. 'Your mother wants to spend Christmas with those she cares about- _you_. So stop complaining and get changed.'

He left it at that, going back to pulling on a sweater and deciding what jacket he was going to wear. Greg watched him for a few seconds before saying, 'You're such a dork.'

'An adorable dork,' Mycroft corrected without turning from their shared wardrobe.

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg laughed. 'Anyway, since when do you use people's nicknames?'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow as he looked over his shoulder.

'It's all, “Gregory” and “Margaret”,' Greg said. 'But you call Mum's boyfriend Doctor Phil.'

Mycroft shrugged one shoulder and turned back to the wardrobe. 'I call your best friend Dimmock, don't I?' he finally said. He picked out a black jacket with silver buckles and pulled it on as he turned back around. 'Sometimes I make exceptions.'

'I suppose,' Greg hummed. He threw his towel over the desk, ignoring Mycroft's tut. 'You _do_ call me Greg, sometimes,' he said. 'Mostly when we're fucking.'

'See? I make an exception when we're having sex,' Mycroft said.

'You're a weirdo, is what you are,' Greg grumbled good-naturedly. In all honesty, he loved that Mycroft called him Gregory. Nobody else did. Well, besides Maggie, but that was different; she was his mother, and only ever called him Gregory when she was mad at him or teasing him.

'Who taught you how to play guitar?' Mycroft asked suddenly

'Oh.' Greg tugged his jeans on. 'Stewart, BJ's older brother. Have you met him?'

'Yes; once or twice,' Mycroft said.

'He plays guitar,' Greg continued. 'And I asked BJ to ask him to see if he could give me lessons. He said yes, so whenever you spent the day with Sherlock, or stayed back after school for debate meetings, I went over to BJ's and Stewart taught me the chords and how to play _1, 2, 3, 4_.'

'Hmm,' Mycroft hummed, but made no further comment.

Soon enough they were both dressed and leaving the house, Greg having thrown on well-worn jeans but a nice shirt and jumper. He didn't want to impress Doctor Phil, and he didn't think he needed to; the guy was okay. But it was Christmas, like Mycroft had said, and Maggie had always loved Christmas, so Greg decided to at least look half-decent.

Greg liked Christmas, too, and not because he got presents. He liked Christmas because, when he was a child, it had been the first time Greg had realised that he had a pretty good life. His early years could have been better, but after his dad left things had picked up. Yes, his mother had never had a lot of money; she still didn't. But they'd always had enough to get by, and Greg had always known that he'd never get cool gaming consoles and expensive gadgets for Christmas.

But he'd never cared. 'Cause when he was younger, his grandpa had first brought over his old VCR, and later his DVD player. He'd given Greg an out-of-date laptop to play games on, and had taught Greg how to cook. Grandpa Tony had given Greg his first real Christmas presents- and birthday presents- too. He'd always made sure that Greg and Maggie had food to eat at Christmas, and he'd leave canned goods and chicken and ham and all kinds of things that Maggie could use to make sandwiches.

Greg didn't talk about his grandfather a lot. Not because he didn't want to, just because he never really came up in conversation. Plus, he'd died when Greg was fairly young, so the very few memories Greg had of the man were beginning to fade away as Greg got older. His mum still told him stories; how Tony Temple had pulled her aside and told her she was too good for his son, Clayton. And how excited he'd been when Maggie had announced that she was pregnant with Greg (and worried, too, because he knew what a screw-up his son was).

Greg smiled to himself as he climbed into the passenger side of Mycroft's Jag.

'What are you smiling about?' Mycroft asked, putting the key in and starting the car. 'Have you finally been infected with the Christmas spirit?'

'That sounds disgusting,' Greg said and Mycroft laughed. 'Nah, I was just thinking about my pop.'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow but didn't look at his boyfriend, instead focusing on backing out of the driveway. It had snowed again overnight, and the road and paths were covered in slush.

'I haven't told you about him, have I?' the brunette said.

'You've mentioned him a few times,' Mycroft answered, thinking about the little comments Greg had made here and there about his grandfather.

'He was awesome; well, from what I remember, he was,' Greg said. 'He was the one who stopped my dad doing anything really stupid. I mean, Dad still hit me and mum sometimes, but it would have been a lot worse if Pop hadn't threatened to kill him for doing it.'

Mycroft's fingers flexed on the steering wheel and he had to grit his teeth to stop from saying something in anger. He'd never get over the casual way Greg spoke about his father's abuse. He remembered the previous night; Greg commenting on how talking about what had happened got easier as you learned how to hide the pain better. Mycroft supposed that after almost fourteen years, Greg had learned how to speak about his father without getting violently angry or bursting into tears.

But the pain was still there, Mycroft knew. All he had to do was look at the way Greg's fingers clenched, or the slight flicker in his eyes. What his father had done had left a scar on Greg that went bone deep and would never fade.

'Anyway, he gave us his VCR and DVD player, and videos and DVDs and stuff,' Greg finally continued. 'And a laptop, too. God, the thing took forever to load, and the battery was shot, but I thought it was awesome. In my defence, I was eight.'

Mycroft smiled slightly, imagining a little eight-year-old Greg getting all excited over an old laptop.

'It was the same year Mum bought me my Game Cube,' Greg said. 'Every day after school I'd bring Dimmock over and we'd play on the laptop or Game Cube.' He paused and tilted his head, staring out the passenger side window. 'Dimmock was just humouring me, you know,' he said softly. 'He had a Play Station and a brand new computer every month. It was before his mum died, so his parents had a decent amount of money. He never bugged me about having such crappy stuff, he was always so cool about it.'

'That's why he's your best friend,' Mycroft commented. Friends would tease you about stuff like that. And while best friends would tease you just as much, they never did about the really important things. Mycroft had learned that when he was thirteen. Anthea had never teased him about his family's money, or his brain or deductive skills. But the one other friend he'd had, Christopher Andrew Cross- or Drew, as he'd preferred to be called- had constantly made fun of Mycroft about all those things.

It wasn't that Drew had been a bad friend- hell, he'd taken Mycroft to the hospital the first time he'd OD'd- but he'd never cared as much as Anthea.

Mycroft shook his head; he didn't want to think about things like that, especially on Christmas.

'Yeah,' Greg hummed. 'Dimmock's always been there for me. Him and his mum were great to me and Mum when my dad left. Mr Dimmock's always been a bit of a bastard, but he wasn't as bad as he is now. Dimmock reckon's he's heart broken; you know, 'cause he lost the love of his life and all.'

'Hmm,' Mycroft tilted his head. 'Do we know _anyone_ who has two happy, loving parents?'

Greg was silent as he thought, before suddenly snapping his fingers. 'BJ. His mum and dad totally love each other. And they're awesome to BJ and his brother.'

'I've only met Benjamin's mother, Melissa,' Mycroft said. 'She and my mother are friends,' he added when Greg turned to him, looking curious.

'Huh,' Greg said. 'I didn't know they ran in the same circles.'

'How do you think Benjamin and I got to know each other?' Mycroft asked. 'I really _did_ tutor him, once upon a time. Until one day he put on some Muse and lit a cigarette, and I decided to join him.'

He paused to see if Greg was still listening. Greg had never really bothered to wonder how BJ and his friends had learned the truth about Mycroft, but now he was curious.

'We started talking,' Mycroft said, 'and soon I admitted that my real personality was nothing like the one I portrayed at school, or even in front of my parents. Benjamin invited me to one of his parties and I dressed up so nobody would recognise me. I had fun and soon enough it had become a regular thing. That was about... a year or so ago, now. I started going to Matthew Sanders' parties as well, and any Benjamin's friends had.'

'Wow,' Greg said. 'I can't believe I never ran into you.'

'I avoided you,' the red-head admitted, and Greg raised both eyebrows in surprise. 'Keep in mind that I had a fairly large crush on you,' Mycroft said, blushing when Greg smirked at him. 'I didn't want you to see me like that, and... well, usually you spent those parties snogging some guy, and I got jealous. So I steered clear of you.'

Greg smiled softly. 'If you'd just come up to me and snogged me, like you did at that second party, I would've dropped my jeans for you, I swear to God.'

Mycroft chuckled and said, 'Well I know that now.'

'We wasted too much time,' Greg sighed.

'We're only seventeen, Gregory,' Mycroft reminded him. 'We have plenty of years to look forward to.'

A silly grin spread across Greg's face. The way Mycroft so casually stated that they'd be together for years and years... it made Greg feel all warm and giddy on the inside.

'Damn, I really do have a gooey marshmellow centre,' Greg grumbled to himself.

'Pardon?'

'Nothing,' Greg said, blushing when Mycroft looked at him. 'Anyway,' he cleared his throat and tried to think up another topic, 'um... hey, have you noticed that BJ doesn't hang out with Matt and the football players anymore? He's always with Joe; it's like they've become best mates or something.'

'Well, Joe no longer hangs out with Dylan, so no doubt he was looking for someone to spend time with,' Mycroft pointed out. 'And Benjamin is my friend, I suppose, so they spend a fair amount of time together at school when the entire group is together. It's not surprising that they'd become friends.'

'I suppose,' Greg nodded. 'And Joe's always liked football. He's a mad Chelsea supporter; you know, one of those fans that dresses in the colours when they watch a match on the telly?'

Mycroft nodded. He wasn't a big fan of sport. He liked cricket, but he never felt the need to watch the matches on television, not even the Ashes.

'We've got a weird group now,' Greg said suddenly. 'There's Sally and BJ and Joe and Dimmock, plus me and you. Then Molly, Lily and Alex whenever we hang out together outside of school. Oh, and Anthea.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'I should tell her that you forgot about her.'

Greg pouted at him. 'No, don't, she'll kill me!' Mycroft chuckled again. 'Don't laugh at me,' Greg said, pointing a finger at his boyfriend. 'That girl's a ninja, I swear to God. And she's teaching Sally how to be a ninja. Oh, and some type of spy or something, 'cause Sally's _still_ trying to get me to talk about our sex life, and her methods are getting sneakier.'

'Can you blame her?' Mycroft asked. 'We have no problem snogging in front of our friends _and_ we had sex in a friend's bathroom while the house was occupied with a dozen other people.'

'Yeah, well...' Greg folded his arms across his chest, 'snogging's different. And I was _horny_ , Mycroft. If Molly had just given us her bloody room...'

'Calm down, love,' Mycroft said, and Greg felt his heart skip a beat. _Love_. Christ, they really did love each other, didn't they? And they'd even said the words! Greg grinned stupidly. Best Christmas _ever_. 'I hope I'm going the right way,' Mycroft said. 'I can't remember where Doctor Phil lives.'

'Liar,' Greg snorted. 'You've got an eidetic memory; don't think you can lie to me.'

'Damn,' Mycroft mused. 'Three months into our relationship and you've already caught on.'

Greg laughed and shook his head. 'You're an idiot.'

'Am not,' Mycroft said.

'Are too.'

'Am not.'

'Three months into our relationship and we're already arguing,' Greg sighed and shook his head. 'God, we're already an old married couple.'

Mycroft looked across at him as he stopped at a red light. 'Is that a problem?' he questioned.

Greg glanced at him before smiling. 'Nah,' he shook his head.

Mycroft smiled back.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Doctor Phil lived near Patcham High School, and his house was a bit bigger than Greg's; the brunette guessed that it probably had more rooms than Maggie's. The lawn was neat, but had no flowers, and the house looked well-cared for, but Phil clearly wasn't one of those guys that felt the need to do much decorating.

Mycroft parked on the street; Maggie's car, as well as two Greg couldn't identify with one look, took up the driveway, and the couple held hands as they walked up to the front door. Greg didn't care how sappy it looked; he loved his boyfriend and he wanted to hold his hand.

They rang the doorbell and eventually Maddy, Shawn's girlfriend, answered. She smiled brightly at them and welcomed them into the house with a, 'Merry Christmas, it's good to see you.'

'Merry Christmas,' Greg and Mycroft both replied.

'Phil and Maggie are in the kitchen putting everything together,' Maddy informed them as she led them down the short hallway and into the sitting room. 'Um, your mum said she might need help with the potato bake and what herbs go best with chicken,' she added, turning to Greg.

Greg groaned and gave Mycroft a pointed look. 'See? What'd I tell you the other day?'

Mycroft just chuckled and kissed his partner's cheek. 'Go save dinner.'

Greg shook his head and let Maddy lead him into the kitchen, while Mycroft looked around the sitting room. It was a warm space, the walls done in a dark blue colour, and there were framed pictures of what appeared to be Doctor Phil, his son, and Shawn's mother on the walls. The mantel held more recent pictures, mostly of baby Harry with his parents. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner, and the floor between the TV and the sofa was covered with a brightly coloured mat and toys.

Shawn Rider was sitting on the sofa grinning at his one-year-old son, who had a pink rabbit in his chubby hands. He was gesticulating wildly with it, and looked pretty pleased with himself if the smile he was sporting was anything to go by.

Shawn looked up when Mycroft entered the room and offered him a smile. 'Hey, Mycroft. Merry Christmas.'

'Merry Christmas,' Mycroft echoed and took a seat on the other end of the sofa.

'Can I get you anything?' Shawn asked.

Shaking his head, Mycroft said, 'I'm fine.' _The Wiggles_ were playing on the television, but Harrison didn't seem to care; he was now staring at Mycroft, his bright green eyes wide. 'Hello,' Mycroft murmured.

'He probably remembers you vaguely from Tesco,' Shawn told him. 'He's pretty good at remembering faces.'

'My brother was like that, when he was a baby,' Mycroft said. 'He cried when he spotted someone who wasn't me or our mother.'

'Really?' Shawn laughed. 'Harry's a generally happy baby. Eats, sleeps, and poops.'

Mycroft smiled softly as he continued to watch the red-haired child. He was still staring at Mycroft, his smile having disappeared, and Mycroft shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like being stared at in general, and with a baby he couldn't come up with a witty remark or scathing retort to make the staring stop.

Shawn seemed to notice because he suddenly moved to pick the baby up. He sat Harry on his lap, and though Harry continued to stare, at least now it was less often. Instead he inspected his father's clothing, seeming to find buttons fascinating, and alternated between chewing on his rabbit and trying to rip the buttons from Shawn's shirt.

'I should probably feed him,' Shawn murmured and shifted the baby about. 'Do you mind watching him for a minute while I get his food? He'll sit fine by himself, but I don't want him rolling off the sofa.'

'I can manage that,' Mycroft nodded. Shawn left Harry sitting against the armrest of the sofa, and Mycroft watched the child carefully as the older teenager left the room. 'So...' Mycroft hummed when Harry continued to stare at him, 'you're a baby and I... have nothing to say to you.'

Mycroft wasn't good with children. At least, he didn't think he was. His only experience came from his baby brother, and even then Mycroft had only been four, almost five, when Sherlock was born. Mycroft remembered a fair bit from Sherlock's baby years, but not enough to take care of a one-year-old for any length of time.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realise Harry had moved until there was a thumping against his thigh. He looked down to see that Harry had crawled towards him, and was sitting on his bum, both hands held out. He made grabby-motions with one and waved the bunny at Mycroft with the other, his eyes scrunched up like he was upset.

'Er... do you want to be picked up?' Mycroft asked, not sure if Harry could understand him.

Harry just waved his arms again, so Mycroft gently put his hands under the boy's arms and lifted him onto his lap. Harry shifted about a bit, his little legs kicking about, before he seemed to find his balance. He looked up at Mycroft and held his rabbit out. 'Wabby,' he announced.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'Wabby?' he echoed and the little boy shifted his entire body forward in what the red-head assumed was a nod. 'Is he your friend?'

'Wabby,' Harry repeated and thumped the rabbit against Mycroft's stomach.

Not sure what else to do, the genius took the toy into his own hands. Harry was watching him carefully, like he was making sure Mycroft wouldn't hurt his friend. Mycroft held the rabbit and looked between it and Harry.

'Erm... very nice,' he tried and smiled down at the boy. 'He's very fluffy, isn't he?'

Harry grinned, showing off gums and not a hint of a tooth, for which Mycroft was thankful. Sherlock had started teething at eight months and had been a terror; he had constantly cried, thrown his food, and gnawed on everything he could get his hands on, including Mycroft's fingers.

'Is he your favourite?' Mycroft questioned and waggled the rabbit at Harry, who startled giggling and slobbering. Mycroft smiled and bopped the rabbit atop Harry's messy red hair, making the baby squeal in delight. 'I'll take that as a yes,' Mycroft chuckled.

He continued to... play, he supposed, with the baby, until someone cleared their throat, making him jump. He grabbed Harry to make sure the boy didn't tumble off his lap, and Harry seemed to find his fingers fascinating. He started tugging at them gently, digging his little nails into Mycroft's skin, and Mycroft smiled at him before turning towards the hallway.

Gregory was standing just behind him, a silly grin on his face.

'Yes?' Mycroft said, one eyebrow going up.

'Aww, look at you wid the widdle baby,' Greg grinned, making Mycroft roll his eyes.

'Shut up,' Mycroft huffed and turned back to Harry, who was now beating his little fists against “Wabby” and glaring at Mycroft. 'I'm sorry, Harrison, did you want to continue?' he asked the baby and waggled the rabbit again. Harry, of course, laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

'Shawn's cooking some vegetables for Harry,' Greg told his boyfriend as he rounded the sofa and sat beside him. 'I thought I'd better check on you.'

'I'm quite capable of watching a one-year-old for two minutes, Gregory,' Mycroft informed him.

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg chuckled. Harry was looking at him now, one hand still on Wabby, the other curled around Mycroft's index finger. 'Hey there, little man,' Greg said and waggled a finger. 'What are you up to, huh? Havin' fun with my boyfriend?'

Harry looked at Mycroft- either trying to confirm that Mycroft was who Greg was talking about, or trying to figure out if Greg was okay to play with. When Mycroft nodded Harry shifted about a bit on his bottom so he was facing Greg, Mycroft's hand firmly on his hips to keep him upright. He tugged Wabby from Mycroft's hand and held it out for Greg, who made a big show of inspecting the plush toy before giving a nod of approval.

'I like him,' he announced. 'Nice pink fur, and big black eyes. He's a rabbit you want on your side.'

Harry gave Greg a grin and Mycroft couldn't help but smile as his partner waved the rabbit about.

'Does he have a name?' Greg asked.

'Wabby,' Mycroft said and the brunette looked at him. 'That's what Harrison said,' the younger teen shrugged.

'Wabby,' Harry nodded in confirmation and pointed at the rabbit. 'Wabby, play more.'

'You wanna play with Wabby?' Greg asked. 'Alright-y then.'

He dropped onto the floor and Harry watched him curiously, and Mycroft did too. Greg grabbed a bright red plastic truck, what looked like a platypus, and what Mycroft could only decide was some type of colourful egg plushie.

'How about Wabby, Mr Platypus, and Eggo take on the evil truck?' Greg suggested.

Harry clapped his hands together and Mycroft carefully lowered him onto the floor before joining him and Greg. Harry shuffled across the mat on his bum and grabbed the egg, apparently now named Eggo, and threw it at the truck.

'BOOM!' Greg shouted and Harry laughed loudly. 'Take _that_ , Evil Truck of Doom!'

'Evil Truck of Doom?' Mycroft asked with a laugh.

'Hey!' Greg pointed a finger at him. 'We don't know what kind of world domination plans this truck might be partaking in.'

'Whatever you say,' Mycroft snickered.

They passed the next five minutes playing. Harry mostly threw things, and Greg made sound effects that drew peels of laughter from the little boy. Mycroft just smiled and made sure Harry didn't crawl off or stick anything in his mouth, though he did seem fond of Greg's jumper and gummed a large wet patch into the collar when Greg picked him up.

'See, I'm irresistible,' Greg informed his boyfriend. 'Even little dudes love me.'

'You're an idiot,' Mycroft told him, but kissed him anyway, making Greg smile.

That was how Maddy found them; Greg and Mycroft sitting side-by-side with Harry before them, toys strewn everywhere.

'Someone's been having a good time,' Maddy said. Harry turned immediately, grinning up at his mum and making grabby-motions at her. 'Are you being a good boy?'

'He's awesome,' Greg said, smiling at her. 'Cool kid.'

'Thanks,' Maddy said. 'But just wait until you see him eat. He's fond of throwing things and mashing everything into liquid form before rubbing it all over his face. I have to change his clothes six times a day.'

'Babies are supposed to be messy,' Greg shrugged. 'And if I had someone offering to dress _me_ six times a day, I'd get messy too.'

'I am _not_ dressing you, Gregory,' Mycroft told him.

'You do sometimes,' Greg grinned, thinking about Mycroft taking his clothes off.

Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'That's different and you know it.'

Maddy gave them a knowing look before going back into the kitchen, Harry on her hip, and Greg and Mycroft remained on the floor, watching _The Wiggles_ DVD that was still playing.

'I like The Wiggles,' Greg said suddenly. 'Dunno why, but they're awesome.'

'Of course they are,' Mycroft said, like thinking anything else was simply stupid.

Greg smiled at him.

'What?' the red-head asked.

'Nothing,' Greg shrugged. 'You're just good with Harry.'

'And?'

'It's nice,' Greg said. 'Makes me think of the future, you know?'

Mycroft smiled and said, 'Tony Holmes, do you mean?'

'Heh, yeah,' Greg laughed. 'Tony Holmes.'

'What if we have a girl?' Mycroft asked.

'Toni Holmes with an I,' Greg shrugged.

'As long as it isn't a nickname for _Antonia_ , I'm completely fine with that,' Mycroft said.

Greg shook his head, still amazed that he and Mycroft could talk like this; about a future, _their future_ , with kids and all. He leaned over to kiss his boyfriend again. 'Love you,' he said.

Mycroft smiled. 'I love you, too.'


	92. Golden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** Golden by Fall Out Boy
> 
> **Author's Note:** I am so very, very sorry about the long wait. This chapter was really hard to write for some reason and it took me a good month to get it done. Then I had to get it off to my beta, who helped out. So again, I'm sorry for making you wait. I haven't even got the next chapter written yet, which is weird for me. But hopefully I get it done and posted soon.
> 
> Enjoy,
> 
> {Dreamer}

Eventually Greg wandered back into the kitchen, mumbling about useless people who couldn't cook under his breath, and Mycroft tidied up the toys he, Greg and Harry had thrown around the room before following. Doctor Phil was doing something to a salad at the kitchen table, and Maggie was with Greg by the oven, nodding along as Greg told her what to do. Maddy and Shawn were both sitting at the table with Harry, feeding the little boy with a plastic spoon.

'Merry Christmas, Mycroft,' Phil said when he saw him.

'Thank you for having me, Doctor Rider,' Mycroft replied, shaking the offered hand.

'Just call me Phil,' the man smiled at him.

'Is... that short for Phillip?' Mycroft asked.

Phil raised both eyebrows but nodded, and Greg snorted from near the oven. 'He calls everyone by their full name- it's nothing personal.'

'Does that mean you'll call me Maddison?' Maddy asked.

'I prefer using people's full names,' Mycroft admitted.

'That's fine, Mycroft,' Phil said.

'Do you need any help?' Mycroft asked and looked around the kitchen; he didn't like the thought of everyone being busy and him sitting in the corner doing nothing.

'You can help me make the pasta salad,' Greg told him. 'It doesn't take long, and it tastes great with chicken and ham and... pretty much everything, really.'

'The pasta's in the pantry,' Phil said and pointed at the door set into the wall opposite the fridge.

Mycroft followed Greg into the pantry, and Greg browsed the various foods before picking out a packet of pasta labelled as “Farfalle Pasta”.

'Do you have basil pesto and basil leaves?' Greg asked Phil, sticking his head back out into the kitchen. 'We can do without the leaves, but I kind of need the pesto.'

'Everything you need should be in there or the fridge,' Phil told him. 'I cook a lot of pasta because it's easy to make.'

''Kay,' Greg replied and ducked back into the pantry. 'Okay, I need basil pesto, basil leaves, and white balsamic vinegar. I'll get the broccoli and tomatoes.'

Mycroft just nodded and searched out the ingredients, eventually finding them and rejoining everyone in the kitchen.

'Chop those for me, please?' Greg told Mycroft, pointing at the tomatoes he'd set out on the chopping board. 'I'll cook the pasta before chopping the broccoli.'

Again, Mycroft just nodded and set about doing as asked. The kitchen was filled with idle chatter and the sound of food preparation, and Mycroft found himself smiling. His past Christmases had been boring and tense; he'd spent half his time picking at his food while being ignored by his father, or hiding in his or Anthea's room with a bottle of some expensive alcohol. He liked this better; family and friends, laughing and cooking together.

And Gregory was by his side, smiling and pecking Mycroft on the cheek as he alternated between boiling the pasta in salted water, expertly dicing the broccoli, adding other odds and ends to a large bowl he'd set on the counter, and helping Maggie and Phil with their food preparations.

Eventually Mycroft was shifted to the side so Greg could mix everything together after the pasta had cooled, and he helped Doctor Phil make another salad- Maddison loved salad, apparently, and would eat an entire bowl to herself if allowed to.

'What's this?' Greg asked about an hour later. Everybody turned to see him holding a packet of instant gravy.

'Er... instant gravy?' Phil tried.

'We are _not_ eating Christmas dinner with instant gravy,' Greg shook his head. 'It's fine with dinner, but not _Christmas_ dinner.'

'I have no idea how to make gravy from scratch,' Phil shrugged.

'I'll make it,' Greg said and tossed the packet back on the counter. 'Hopefully you have all the ingredients.'

'You don't have to, Greg,' Maggie said as Greg disappeared into the pantry. 'You've done enough.'

'I'm not eating Christmas dinner with instant gravy!' came Greg's muffled voice. 'It's easy to make, it'll take me ten minutes.'

The others watched as Greg placed various ingredients on the counter, grabbing a whisk while he was at it. He used the pan that the chicken and potatoes had been cooked in and set it atop the stove. He started adding things as he cooked, including flour and various herbs as well as water. Mycroft had no idea how Greg remembered how to make gravy without looking at a recipe, but he'd made the pasta salad as well as the potato bake without looking at anything either.

Mycroft thought it was a real shame that Gregory didn't love cooking; he was fantastic at it. He moved confidently, always added each ingredient with concentration, and whatever he made tasted great. He'd make a lot of money if he was passionate about cooking.

While Greg made the gravy Mycroft decided to duck out the back for a quick cigarette. The Riders had a concrete slab just outside the back door, with a chair big enough for three set against the house. Mycroft took a seat as he lit his cigarette and used the ashtray that was sitting by the chairs.

The backyard was mostly brown grass with a hint of green, a few bushes, flowers, and a tree in the corner. There was also a fine layer of snow, mostly turning brown as it hit the ground. Mycroft could see fresh snow falling as he glanced at the shed opposite the tree.

He'd just stubbed his cigarette out when Greg joined him, and the brunette sighed. 'Damn, I was hoping to take a drag.'

'Your mother's here so you can't smoke,' Mycroft nodded in understanding. 'I can always have another one?'

Greg clapped his hands together and bowed. 'You're the best boyfriend ever and I'll love you 'til the day I die.'

Mycroft chuckled and lit another smoke, holding it out for Greg to take quick drags every few seconds. They sat in silence as they smoked, both just staring across the lawn.

'So far this has been the best Christmas I've ever had,' Mycroft commented suddenly.

'Yeah?' Greg hummed and Mycroft nodded. 'Me too,' he admitted.

'Really?'

'Well, yeah,' Greg smiled at him. 'I've got an awesome boyfriend who _loves_ me, and I'm spending it with good people. What's not to love?'

'I wish Sherlock was here,' Mycroft said and Greg reached out to squeeze his knee. 'I just know that he's sitting at home, miserable.'

'He'll get out of there one day,' Greg told him. 'Or who knows? Maybe, eventually, your dad'll get better. He might change his mind and grow up.'

Mycroft gave his boyfriend a brief smile. 'Maybe,' he echoed. But he doubted it.

'We'll invite Sherlock next year,' Greg said. 'And John, too. Hell, we'll have the entire Watson clan over. Though Harry freaks me out a little.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'She hit on you; I remember that.'

'You too,' Greg pointed out.

'I'm sure she'll restrain herself if you cook dinner,' Mycroft grinned at him. 'Your food will be enough to make her behave.'

'Hope so,' Greg said. 'I don't like it when girls hit on me. I dunno what to do.'

'Just smile, say thank you, and tell them you're queer.'

Greg snorted. 'Works most of the time, but sometimes they still try, like they can make me straight or bi or something.'

'Smile and be polite, Gregory,' Mycroft repeated. 'Just smile and be polite.'

'That's not helpful at all.'

'I wasn't trying to be helpful.'

'Bastard,' Greg grumbled.

'You love it,' Mycroft said.

Greg grinned at him. 'Yeah,' he nodded, 'I really do.'

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mycroft ducked outside to have a cigarette a few times over the following hours- and Greg followed him, stealing drags every few seconds- but soon enough they all sat down for Christmas dinner. Maggie stopped the couple before they could enter the kitchen, holding out two wrapped presents.

'You didn't have to, Mum,' Greg said, but took the present anyway.

'It's Christmas; of course I had to,' Maggie responded. She pointed a finger at Mycroft. 'And I don't want to hear a word out of you, either.'

Mycroft just nodded, blushing as he opened his gift. Greg ripped his own open, while Mycroft carefully peeled the paper of his open, and the red-head turned when his boyfriend gasped.

'Awesome,' Greg breathed and held up a copy of _¡Tré!_ By Green Day. 'This is so cool, Mum. 'Cause Mycroft got me _¡Dos!_ , so now I have all of them.'

'Mycroft told me he got you the other one, that's why I got you this one,' Maggie smiled. She chuckled when Greg hugged her. 'I bought it a few weeks ago and Phil let me keep it here.'

'Why?' Mycroft questioned as he finished opening his own gift.

'Gregory has the habit of searching the entire house for his birthday and Christmas presents,' Maggie told him.

'That was when I was, like, _eight_ ,' Greg huffed.

Maggie raised her eyebrows at him. 'You did it in June, Greg, and you'd just turned seventeen.'

Greg scowled at her but didn't say anything as Mycroft looked at his own gift. It was a new copy of _Ice Station_ by Matthew Reilly, a book he already had, but when he opened the cover and flipped through the first few pages he found that it had been signed by the author.

'Oh my God,' he looked from the book to Maggie and back again.

'I know it's your favourite,' Maggie said. 'And it's always good to have a book signed by the author.'

'I only have a few of my Alex Rider books signed,' Mycroft murmured. He closed the book again and said, 'Thank you so much, Margaret.'

'You're very welcome,' Maggie smiled. 'You're my boys; I had to get you both something nice.'

Mycroft blushed at that, but looked pleased that Maggie considered him one of her boys. Greg didn't know why he was surprised; he was practically like a second son to Maggie.

'Dinner's ready!' Phil called, and the small family all smiled at each other before heading into the kitchen.

Greg and Mycroft sat next to each other across from Shawn, Maddy and Harry, while Maggie and Phil sat at opposite ends of the table. Drinks were passed around before Phil raised his glass of wine and said, 'A toast; to family and friends.'

'To Christmas and spending time together,' Maggie added, earning nods from everyone. Greg smiled and leaned over to kiss his boyfriend, who blushed but smiled back. 'And thank you for helping, Greg. Christmas dinner wouldn't be the same without your help,' Maggie added.

'Or my complaints,' Greg quipped, making the others laugh. 'Anyway, someone pass me the chicken.'

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


After dinner, and dessert, Greg, Mycroft, Maddy and Shawn- with Harry on his hip- migrated into the living room while Maggie and Phil put the food away and did the dishes. Harry was beginning to fall asleep so Maddy put on a DVD of _Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone_ , stating that she hated Christmas movies and the boys would just have to deal. Greg liked her. Mycroft sat on one of the armchairs and Greg flopped onto his lap, ignoring Mycroft's pointed look, while Maddy and Shawn took the sofa.

About half-an-hour into the movie, Maggie entered the living room and said, 'Greg, Mycroft, I'm going to stay here tonight.'

'Okay,' Greg said. 'Me and Mycroft'll probably head home soon.'

'I'll give you some of the leftovers; put them in the fridge when you get home, will you?'

Greg nodded and Maggie went back into the kitchen, leaving the teenagers to talk again. After Shawn had put Harry to bed he and Greg discussed football- or soccer, as Shawn kept calling it- while Maddy and Mycroft talked about what they wanted to do later in life.

Maddy had dropped out of school to raise Harry, as had Shawn, so she'd mostly been working odd jobs and was now a secretary at the local hairdresser, but was looking into taking classes to become a hairdresser herself. Mycroft, of course, wanted to get into politics, and Greg smiled proudly as his boyfriend and Maddison got into a heated debate about health care in various countries and a number of other topics.

Eventually Greg started yawning and Mycroft chuckled softly. 'Do you need a nap?' the taller boy asked.

'Shut up,' Greg grumbled. 'Who was it that woke me up at six this morning?'

'It was seven-thirty, not six,' Mycroft corrected.

Greg flapped a hand at him and said, 'Whatever. Six, seven-thirty, I don't see the difference.'

'Well there's an hour and a half diff- _ow_!' Mycroft scowled when his partner elbowed him in the stomach, and Greg just smiled charmingly.

'My point is,' Greg said, ignoring Mycroft's look, 'I'm tired, and I need sleep. Especially after earlier.'

Maddy and Shawn both smiled knowingly, but didn't say anything as Greg hopped to his feet and held a hand out to his boyfriend.

'Yes, okay,' Mycroft sighed and let himself be pulled up. 'Maddison, Shawn, it was lovely getting to know you.'

'Likewise,' Shawn nodded.

'We'll have to have lunch some time,' Maddy said. 'Nobody in this house will talk politics with me.'

Mycroft smiled. 'I'd love to.'

'And we can talk football while the girlfriends chat,' Greg said to Shawn.

Shawn laughed as Mycroft slapped his boyfriend over the back of the head, but nodded and shook first Greg's hand, then Mycroft's. Maddy waved goodbye and Mycroft and Greg wandered into the kitchen to say goodbye to Maggie and Phil.

There were more handshakes, and hugs from Maggie, and soon Mycroft and Greg were heading home with full stomachs and leftovers tucked under their arms.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


While Greg put the leftovers in the fridge, Mycroft set up his keyboard after changing into pyjama bottoms and a baggy jumper. He put it in the corner with his guitars, and it was a tight squeeze; they'd either have to push it aside to get to their wardrobe, or dismantle the stand Greg had bought him.

'I just wanted to give you the keyboard; I forgot about the stand,' Greg admitted as Mycroft set it up.

'It's fine, Gregory,' Mycroft smiled. 'Even if you'd brought out the stand at the same time, I would have forgotten about it myself.' He leaned over and kissed Greg when the brunette got close enough. 'I love you. Thank you again.'

'No worries,' Greg responded. He sat cross-legged on the bed and watched as Mycroft dragged their desk chair over to sit behind the keyboard. 'Are you gonna play me something?' Greg asked.

Mycroft smiled again. 'Like what?' he asked.

'I dunno. Muse or... whatever you can play.'

'I think I played almost all of the Muse songs I know when we went into that music store,' Mycroft said. He turned the keyboard on and pressed a few keys, letting his fingers glide over them and re-familiarise themselves with the notes and chords. 'You don't like Fall Out Boy,' he murmured after about a minute or two.

Greg raised his eyebrows. 'There are acoustic Fall Out Boy songs?'

Mycroft chuckled as he nodded. ' _What A Catch, Donnie_ has an acoustic version.'

'I have no idea what song that is,' Greg admitted.

'It's played on guitar, so it doesn't matter,' Mycroft said. 'Hmm... there is one,' he murmured and started pressing at keys, filling the bedroom with music. ' _Hoow_ cruel... is the golden _ruule_? When the lives we lived are only golden _plaated_...'

A grin stretched across Greg's face as he watched Mycroft sing and play; he'd never get over how awesome his boyfriend was.

'And I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for me...' Mycroft sang softly. 'Though I carried karats for everyone to _seee_... and I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies... and all the lovers with no time for _mee_.... and _all_ of the mothers raised their babies... to stay away from _mee_...'

Mycroft's eyes were focused on the keyboard, his fingers moving quickly yet elegantly, like they had last time.

'Tongues on the _sockeets_...' Mycroft practically hummed, his voice soft, 'of electric _dreeams_... where the sewage of youth drown the spark of my _teeens_. And I knew that the lights of the city were too heavy for _mee..._ though I carried karats for everyone to _seee_...'

Mycroft's voice got louder, deeper, as he sang the next part, and he started pressing on the keys harder, making the music louder, too. 'And I saw God cry in the reflection of my enemies... and all the lovers with no time for _mee_... and _aall_ of the mothers raise their babies...' Mycroft's voice softened, his fingers lighter, as he sang the last part, 'to stay away from _mee_... and pray they don't grow up to _bee_...'

The song ended too soon in Greg's opinion, and he whistled when Mycroft's hands stilled. 'That was beautiful.'

Mycroft blushed, his eyes on the keyboard. 'Really?'

'Definitely,' Greg nodded. 'I dunno how you can play the keyboard _and_ guitar, it's just amazing.'

'I like playing guitar, but I don't love it,' Mycroft admitted. He ran his fingers over the keys before him. 'I like it, don't get me wrong, but... it's not the same as playing the piano.'

'I can tell,' Greg said. Mycroft was a great guitar player, but it was very clear that his true love was the piano.

'Sherlock can only play a few short songs on the piano; I taught him,' Mycroft told his boyfriend. 'But his true talent is on the violin.'

Greg cocked his head. 'I didn't know Sherlock played violin.'

'We both had to learn an instrument when we were younger,' Mycroft explained. 'I chose the piano, and Sherlock did, too, until his instructor brought in a violin. He's been playing since he was six or so.'

'You'll both have to play one day for me and John,' Greg said.

Mycroft chuckled. 'Sherlock would like that,' he nodded.

They fell into silence until Greg cleared his throat and said, 'So, uh... that song didn't totally suck, I suppose.'

Mycroft smirked. 'You're beginning to like Fall Out Boy, aren't you?'

' _No_ ,' Greg huffed. 'Just... maybe I like the songs that _you_ can play.'

'Sure, sure,' Mycroft laughed.

'I hate Fall Out Boy,' Greg insisted. 'They're stupid.'

'Whatever you say, love.'

Greg's heart swelled at the word, but he continued to bad-mouth Fall Out Boy, just so Mycroft could tease him. Their fight ended with them snogging in bed, of course; Greg hoped all their future fights ended like that.

When they broke apart, their lips swollen and breathing heavy, Mycroft said, 'Thank you.'

'For what?' Greg asked.

'For everything,' Mycroft said. 'My present and just Christmas in general... I had an amazing time.'

'I did, too,' Greg smiled. 'But only 'cause you were here.'

'You already got lucky today.'

'I didn't say it just 'cause I wanted sex, you know,' Greg scowled.

Mycroft smiled softly at him and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. 'I know, Gregory.'

Greg nodded. 'Good.' He tugged Mycroft closer and buried his face in Mycroft's neck, leaving Mycroft to draw the duvet up. 'Love you.'

'I love you, too,' Mycroft replied. 'Merry Christmas, Gregory.'

'Back at ya,' Greg said, making the red-head smile.


	93. This Is Gospel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** This Is Gospel by Panic! at the Disco
> 
> **Author's Note:** This chapter is for **starrysummernights** , who wanted to see Sherlock at Christmas... and then my muse decided that Sherlock must appear 'cause he's awesome, so there you go. Also, thanks to **SniperKingSogeking0341** for suggesting the song, I now love it.
> 
> In other news, I'm sorry how long it's taken me to update; these last chapters are getting harder and harder to write. Also, I probably won't be updating for a while. I'm almost out of internet credit and I have zero money. The money I can scrape together goes towards buying the one meal a day I get and my brother currently refuses to buy me anything, so... yeah, it might be a while. Hopefully not too long.
> 
> Anywho, enjoy!
> 
> {Dreamer}

Mycroft woke to his BlackBerry buzzing across the bedside table. Greg grumbled and snorted when Mycroft moved but didn't wake, so the red-head carefully pushed his boyfriend aside in order to grab his mobile.

The caller ID flashed Sherlock's name and Mycroft frowned when he noted the time before answering. 'Sherlock, why are you calling? It's three am.'

There was silence on the other end and Mycroft's frown deepened.

'Sherlock?'

' _Can... can you come outside?_ '

'What?'

Sherlock sighed. ' _Can you_ please _come outside?_ '

Mycroft hesitated before asking, 'Why?'

' _Because I just walked to Lestrade's from the Manor and I'm fucking cold!_ ' Sherlock snapped.

Mycroft swore and quickly climbed out of bed after hanging up. Greg didn't wake, not even when Mycroft got dressed and climbed out of the bedroom window; it was easier than walking through the house. He rounded the side of the house and silently opened the back gate before jogging across the grass.

Sherlock was at the end of the driveway leaning against a tree. He was trembling faintly, barely able to keep a hold of the cigarette he had in his right hand. He dropped it as soon as he saw his brother and raced across the driveway to hurl himself into Mycroft's arms.

'Sherlock, what's wrong?' the elder Holmes asked as his brother's arms wrapped around his neck.

'N-Nothing,' Sherlock stuttered, but squeezed tighter and buried his face in Mycroft's neck.

'Don't lie to me,' Mycroft said, hugging his brother back. 'Tell me what's wrong.'

Sherlock sighed and when he spoke his voice was muffled, face still hidden. 'I managed to sneak away to see John for a little but, but both Mother and Father were home. Anthea stayed with me and... well, you know what Christmas is like with Siger.'

Mycroft felt his heart clench at the pain in Sherlock's voice. He'd had a wonderful time with Greg at Doctor Phil's, and his little brother had been miserable.

'Don't do that,' Sherlock grunted.

'Do what?' Mycroft asked.

'Blame yourself,' Sherlock told him. He drew back to look at his sibling, eyes hard. 'It's not your fault, My. And I don't blame you for wanting to have a good Christmas. You _should_ have spent the time with your boyfriend instead of worrying about me.'

'I did worry,' Mycroft said. 'I even told Gregory that I wished you were there. He suggested we invite you next year.'

Sherlock perked up slightly, but tried to look disinterested. 'Really?' he sniffed.

'Really,' Mycroft smiled. 'We'll be away at university but we'll most likely come home for the holidays.'

Sherlock's face fell at the mention of university; he liked to ignore the fact that in less than a year, his brother would be moving- most likely to Oxfordshire, if Mycroft's school results were anything to go by.

'Lockie...' Mycroft sighed, seeing the look.

'I know you have to go away,' Sherlock said. He stared resolutely at Mycroft's chest. 'And I want you to; you deserve to go to whatever university you wish. I just... I want you to be close to me.'

'I'll visit,' Mycroft promised, 'and in less than two years you'll be fifteen. You can move out if you wish. I'll even buy you a flat somewhere far away from Siger if you want.'

'I don't want to leave John,' Sherlock murmured. 'John wants to stay at Baker Street, and I want to stay here with him.'

'So stay,' Mycroft said. 'But don't stay at the Manor if Siger's going to hurt you.'

Sherlock just shrugged and mumbled, 'We'll see,' before looking back up at his brother. 'Can I stay here the night? I left a note for Mother; she'll understand.'

Mycroft frowned when he remembered that his brother had _walked_ from Holmes Manor. 'Sherlock, you shouldn't have walked,' he scowled, making the younger boy roll his eyes. 'It's too far.'

'It was only twenty-five minutes,' Sherlock argued.

'That's not the point!' Mycroft snapped. 'You could have been hurt.'

'I know how to fight,' Sherlock said, 'and I'm a fast runner. If anyone had tried anything, I'd have knocked them out and called you.'

Mycroft shook his head and wound an arm around Sherlock's neck. ' _Don't do it again_!' he ordered. Sherlock just poked his tongue out. 'You can stay here tonight; I'll drive you back home later today.'

'Whatever,' Sherlock said before breaking free from Mycroft's grip and running through the gate and around the house. Mycroft shook his head and chased after his brother.

When he caught up, Sherlock was already through the bedroom window and in the process of jumping on Greg, making the older teen wake with a yell.

'Fucking hell, Sherlock!' Greg snarled when Mycroft clambered through the window. 'What the fuck are you doing?'

'Mycroft said I could stay,' Sherlock informed him. He was kicking off his shoes and quickly threw his jacket at Mycroft. 'Shove over, Lestrade.'

'What?' Greg said then groaned when Sherlock dove under the covers. He yelped when the younger boy's cold feet pressed against his calves and practically fell out of the bed.

'Sorry,' Mycroft apologised.

'Fucking little bastard,' Greg grunted and scrubbed both hands over his face.

'I love you too,' Sherlock snickered and got comfortable. He was curled into a ball in the middle of the bed, all the blankets wrapped around him, only the top of his curly head visible.

Mycroft turned to Greg and said, 'He's small and he barely moves while asleep; he won't take up much room.'

'We have a spare mattress,' Greg said. 'Or he can sleep in my mum's bed.'

'No!' Sherlock snapped. 'I have to share with Mycroft.'

'Why?' Greg asked. When Sherlock didn't reply, Greg looked at his boyfriend.

'He needs to be close,' the red-head shrugged.

Greg groaned and muttered, 'I'm too tired for this,' before climbing back into bed. 'If you put your cold feet anywhere near me I'll kill you!' he snapped at Sherlock.

'Eff off,' Sherlock grumbled tiredly.

Mycroft just smiled and climbed into bed too. Greg ended up against the wall wrapped around Mycroft, playing the big spoon. Sherlock wriggled about a bit more until he was curled up in his brother's arms.

'Sorry,' Mycroft whispered again.

'S'alright,' Greg yawned. He pressed a kiss to the back of Mycroft's neck and mumbled, 'Go to sleep.'

There was silence for about a minute or two before Sherlock said, 'Thank you for letting me stay.'

'No problem,' Greg said.

Sherlock hesitated before whispering, 'Merry Christmas, My.'

'Merry Christmas, Lockie,' Mycroft replied.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Well this is interesting.'

Greg frowned at the words and slowly peeled his eyes open. His head was foggy with sleep and it took him a good minute to untangle himself from the multitude of limbs that had wrapped themselves around him in the middle of the night. He looked over to the bedroom door to see Maggie standing there with a cup of coffee, amusement colouring her face.

'Mum?' he yawned.

'When did he get here?' she asked and pointed at the bed.

Greg's frown deepened and he looked down. 'Oh,' he grunted. Sherlock had moved during the night and was now sandwiched between Greg and Mycroft, his arms wrapped around one of Mycroft's, his legs tangled with Greg's. He and his brother were still asleep, Sherlock's hair messier than Greg had ever seen it, and he looked kind of... cute. Nothing like his usual manic, slightly disturbing self.

'He turned up this morning, dunno what time,' Greg muttered and climbed out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake the brothers. 'I think he missed Mycroft.'

'Okay,' Maggie said. 'I'm making breakfast, if you're hungry.'

Greg just nodded and his mum left. He changed into a pair of tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie before wandering through the house and into the kitchen. Maggie poured him a cup of coffee and he added sugar as he watched his mum cook scrambled eggs, bacon and tomato.

She'd just plated breakfast up when Mycroft and Sherlock appeared, both looking tired and rumpled. Sherlock was wearing an old pair of Greg's shorts and a jumper that was clearly Mycroft's- it hung over his hands and halfway down his thighs, and the thirteen-year-old had to roll up the sleeves to eat.

'Morning, boys,' Maggie said, while Greg just kissed his boyfriend hello.

'Good morning,' Mycroft mumbled while Sherlock yawned.

'It was a surprise to see you here, Sherlock,' Maggie said, making the boy look up at her.

'Erm...' he hesitated, looking at first Mycroft, then Greg, before saying, 'Mycroft said I could stay.'

Maggie smiled at him. 'It's fine, dear. But your mother knows where you are, right?'

'Yes,' Sherlock lied, but Maggie didn't call him out on it. She just poured coffee for Mycroft and grabbed the orange juice from the fridge from Sherlock.

Breakfast was mostly a quiet affair, though Greg had to laugh when he watched Sherlock make a sandwich with toast out of his breakfast, just like Mycroft did.

'What?' Sherlock asked.

'Nothing,' Greg shrugged and sipped his coffee.

Sherlock scowled at him and crammed half the sandwich into his mouth, making Mycroft roll his eyes.

'What are your plans for today?' Maggie asked as she ate.

Greg shrugged, while Mycroft said, 'Sherlock and I will probably just watch a few movies and go out for lunch before I take him home.'

'And _you_ aren't invited,' Sherlock huffed at Greg.

Greg flipped him off, and Maggie huffed. 'Gregory.'

'What? He's being a little bastard,' Greg grumbled.

'Gregory can join us if he wants,' Mycroft scowled at his brother.

'Maybe I don't wanna spend my day with a little- _oi_!' Greg glared at his mum when she slapped his arm, and Maggie just smiled brightly. 'I'll just sit in the corner and stare at the walls, shall I?'

'Gregory,' Mycroft sighed.

'No, I get it,' Greg shrugged. 'Sherlock wants to spend time with his brother, okay? You two can watch movies and I'll... watch movies by myself. Or I'll call Dimmock and see what he's doing. It's no big deal.'

And it really wasn't. Greg didn't have any siblings, but he'd want to hang out with his little brother too if they lived in different households. And the situation with Mycroft and his family was so fucked up that Greg didn't blame Sherlock for wanting to get away from home for a little while.

'Gregory, you really don't have to do that,' Mycroft tried, but Greg clamped a hand over his mouth, making Mycroft raise an eyebrow.

'Mycroft, it's cool,' the brunette insisted. 'Spend the day with your brother; do whatever it is that siblings do. I'll find something else to do, and we'll have lunch together, alright?'

He stared at Mycroft until the taller boy nodded, and then removed his hand. 'Okay then,' he said and turned to Sherlock. 'You have Mycroft all to yourself; spend your time wisely.'

'You're an idiot,' Sherlock stated and Maggie stifled a laugh while Greg rolled his eyes. 'But...' Sherlock bit his bottom lip and mumbled a quick, 'thank you,' before stuffing the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.

'You're welcome,' Greg told him. 'And I expect sex tonight, Mycroft,' he added, just to see Sherlock choke on his food and Maggie swat him again. Mycroft blushed and busied himself with his coffee, but threw a smirk at Greg, which made Greg grin stupidly.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Kicked aside for the little brother, huh?' Dimmock asked as he flopped onto Greg's unmade bed.

'Shut up,' Greg huffed. He sat at the desk and turned on his laptop. 'Sherlock practically kicked me out of my own home.'

'We're still in your home,' Dimmock pointed out.

Greg rolled his eyes and said, 'You know what I mean.' Dimmock just smiled at him. 'Anyway, why were you free? I figured you'd be with Molly.'

'You know how her family are with Christmas,' Dimmock shrugged. 'She's at her grandparents' today and tomorrow's her dad's side of the family.'

'Sometimes I'm glad it's just me and Mum,' Greg said and twisted around in the seat. He put his password in and said, 'So, what do you wanna do?'

'Dunno,' Dimmock shrugged. 'I brought some movies, if you wanna watch one.'

'What?' Greg asked.

'Um...' Dimmock hummed as he unzipped his backpack and started rifling through it.

'Hey, shouldn't you be at church or something?' Greg asked as Dimmock continued searching his bag. 'Your dad's big on all that religious stuff.'

'We went yesterday,' Dimmock said. 'Have you ever gone to a Christmas mass? There are people _everywhere_.'

'I can't remember the last time I went to church,' Greg shrugged as he thought. 'I think it was something to do with school.'

'The church we go to is pretty cool,' Dimmock told him. 'The priest is like seventy or something, but he always goes on about treating everybody with respect. And he said yesterday that it doesn't matter what people do or don't believe in; as long as you're a good person, you'll get into heaven.'

Greg just shrugged again and Dimmock glanced up at him. Religion was always a sore subject with Greg. Most people didn't care that Greg was gay; they lived in Brighton, after all. But there were always a few people who looked down on him, or told him he was a bad person, simply because their Holy book said so.

'Anyway,' Dimmock cleared his throat, making Greg look away from his laptop, 'usually me and Dad would be with my nan, but she's visiting her niece or something. She's probably coming down for New Year.'

'Wait,' Greg frowned, 'is this the super-homophobic one or the hippy?'

Dimmock snorted. 'My dad's mum; so the super-homophobic one.'

'Didn't she tell me I was going to hell 'cause homosexuality is a sin?' Greg asked.

Dimmock laughed as he nodded. 'Yeah, and you said, “Well at least there'll be cute boys”.'

'And your dad kicked me out,' Greg grinned. 'That was the first time.'

Shaking his head, Dimmock muttered, 'It'll be a _fun_ New Year with her around.'

'But we always have a party at your place,' Greg frowned. 'We can't do that with her there.'

'Yeah,' Dimmock sighed. 'You can still come if you want. You usually do.'

'And, what, get kicked off the furniture 'cause your nan doesn't want me to taint it?' Greg asked.

'Just don't stick your tongue down Mycroft's throat and it'll be fine,' Dimmock said.

'What's the point of having a boyfriend if I can't kiss him on New Year?'

'I'll probably hide in my room or the backyard with Molly,' Dimmock told him. 'You and Mycroft can join us.'

Greg just shrugged and muttered that he'd think about it while Dimmock pulled DVDs from his bag.

'I've got... _The Avengers_ , some seasons of _Supernatural_ , the first three seasons of _Dexter_ , _National Treasure, Thor,_ and...'

'Shut up,' Greg interrupted, 'just put _The Avengers_ in, then we can watch _Supernatural_.'

'Yes, sir!' Dimmock saluted before flipping his friend off. Greg just smiled as Dimmock busied himself over by the TV and DVD player. 'You just wanna stare at all the actors, you pervert,' Dimmock muttered.

'I can look all I want,' Greg said. 'It's not like you never look at anyone else, even though you're with Molly.'

'Yeah, but I don't go into detail about what I want to do to the actors,' Dimmock said.

'Then don't listen,' Greg retorted.

Dimmock rolled his eyes and grabbed the remote. 'Go make some popcorn or something.'

'Yes, sir!' Greg echoed his friend, who snickered and jumped back onto the bed. Greg headed into the kitchen, bypassing Sherlock and Mycroft, who were in the living room watching what looked like a documentary.

'I told you that you weren't invited, Lestrade!' Sherlock shouted.

'I'm just getting some snacks, relax,' Greg muttered. He threw a bag of popcorn in the microwave and grabbed some chips and drinks.

'I'm sorry about Sherlock.'

Greg jumped and turned to look at his boyfriend. 'It's okay, Mycroft,' he insisted. 'I already said I was fine.'

'But still...' Mycroft sighed.

'He misses you,' Greg said. 'I get that, really. It's fine.'

'I promise I'll make it up to you,' Mycroft said and crossed the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around Greg's waist, and Greg raised an eyebrow as his hands automatically went to Mycroft's hips.

'Is that so?' he asked. 'And how, exactly, are you going to make it up to me, Mr Holmes?'

Mycroft gave him a sinful smile as he leaned forward, his lips brushing Greg's ear as he spoke. 'Maybe tonight, when the lights are out and everybody's in bed, I'll throw you down and fuck you into the mattress.' Greg shivered. 'Or, maybe, I'll bend you over the desk and fuck you from behind.' Greg whimpered. 'And I'll make you come on my cock; you won't be allowed to touch your own.'

Mycroft paused to nip at Greg's ear.

'Would you like that?' he asked.

'Y-Yes,' Greg stuttered. His fingers dug into Mycroft's hips and dragged the red-head closer.

'Or maybe you'd rather ride me?' Mycroft whispered. 'Watch your dick bob between us and cover me in come when you climax?'

Greg slammed his mouth against Mycroft's, and the kiss was all sloppy lips and sharp teeth. Their noses bumped together and their chins too, making them both moan in pleasure and grunt in annoyance in equal measures. Finally Mycroft spun them and pressed against Greg, making the counter dig into the brunette's arse.

'MYCROFT!'

Mycroft ripped his lips away from Greg's and turned. Sherlock was standing in the doorway looking furious, and Mycroft sighed before pulling away from his partner. Greg still looked a bit dazed and didn't react when the microwave started beeping.

'Your popcorn is done,' Mycroft told him.

'It's _my_ popcorn now,' Sherlock announced. He raced over to the microwave and pulled it out, hissing when the heated packet burnt his fingers.

'Sherlock,' Mycroft sighed and grabbed a bowl. 'Do you even like popcorn?'

Sherlock scowled at him. 'Who doesn't like popcorn?'

Greg finally came back to himself and said, 'Hey, that's mine.'

'Well you were too busy sucking face with my brother,' Sherlock said. 'So it's mine now.' He poked his tongue out for added effect and went back into the living room.

'Christ,' Greg groaned. 'Now I've got no popcorn _and_ I'm horny.'

Mycroft chuckled and gave him a quick kiss before grabbing the cokes and a bag of chips. 'And now you don't have any drinks, either,' he said.

'Mycroft!' Greg shouted but his boyfriend followed after his brother. 'Christ,' he groaned again and went back to the fridge. 'Fucking Holmeses.'

When he finally got back to his bedroom, fresh popcorn and drinks in hand, Dimmock raised both eyebrows and said, 'Get sidetracked snogging your man?'

'Fuck off,' Greg grunted, making Dimmock laugh.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'You're on form today,' Mycroft commented when he sat back down on the sofa. Sherlock was huddled on the other end, clutching the popcorn like he was worried people would try and steal it.

Sherlock ignored him and tossed popcorn into his mouth.

'Gregory was nice enough to let us spend time together, alone,' Mycroft continued. He popped the tab of his drink and took a sip. 'And yet you're still being a little brat.'

'Today is for _us_ ,' Sherlock grumbled. 'You can have sex with your boyfriend any day of the week. You don't see me unless we're at school or make time to see each other.'

Mycroft glanced at his brother. 'We spend almost every Saturday together,' he said, 'is that not enough for you?' The younger Holmes shrugged. 'Did you want to spend an afternoon a week together?' Mycroft tried. 'Maybe we could meet at the library and do homework together, or just go to the shopping centre?'

Sherlock sniffed and finally looked away from the documentary they were watching. 'That'd be okay, I guess,' he shrugged.

'Sherlock, if you want to spend more time together, you should have just told me,' Mycroft said. 'Nobody's going to judge you. And you don't have to treat Gregory like dirt just to get me to yourself. He understands.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Sherlock grumbled. 'Lestrade's just super fabulous.'

Mycroft frowned and turned to face his sibling properly. Sherlock was staring at the TV again, but clearly not actually watching. He was playing with the popcorn, rolling the kernels between his fingers.

'Are you jealous?' Mycroft asked incredulously.

'What?' Sherlock practically squawked, rounding on his brother. 'Don't be absurd!'

'You are,' Mycroft frowned. 'You've never really liked Gregory, but you've never actively hated him either.'

'You aren't making any sense,' Sherlock scowled.

'The only thing that _makes_ sense is you hating Gregory because I spend most of my time with him,' Mycroft stated.

Sherlock's scowl deepened before he turned away.

'Sherlock?'

'You live together!' the younger Holmes exploded. 'You share a bed and a bedroom and classes and you drive to and from school together! You spend every morning and afternoon with him, and most of your weekends. Why do I only get one day?!'

Mycroft sighed. 'This morning you said that you didn't mind me spending Christmas with Gregory.'

'And I don't!' Sherlock snapped. 'Everybody always says that Christmas is spent with family and friends- people you love and care about. If I could I would have spent Christmas anywhere but at home, and I'm glad you spent yours with people who care about you.'

He looked away, scowling at the walls, the furniture, at anything but Mycroft.

'But what about every other day?' he asked, his voice suddenly soft. 'Why can't you put aside a few afternoons for me? Why can't you spend a lunchtime with me instead of your boyfriend? Why can't we do what we used to do; drive around in your car instead of going home to a cold, empty house?'

'Sherlock,' Mycroft sighed. He reached out and tugged the younger boy closer, and Sherlock let him, folding himself into Mycroft's side. 'I love you; you know that, right?' Sherlock nodded against his chest. 'If I could I'd get you out of the Manor. I'd buy a flat or a house where we could live together; a place where you and John can be boyfriends without worrying about Siger catching you. But you're too young and Siger still has the right to dictate your life until you turn sixteen- or until you get your inheritance. Until then, all we can do is try to meet up.

'And you're right; we should be doing all of that,' Mycroft continued. 'I should be making time for you. I'm sorry that I haven't, there just always seems to be something happening. But I promise that we'll spend more weekends together, and I'll see you more often during and after school. I'll even help with some of your experiments.'

Sherlock pulled back to look up at him. 'Really?' he asked. 'You'll help me collects bugs to dissect and mould to study and-'

'Yes, Sherlock,' Mycroft interrupted, 'I'll help with all of that.' Sherlock stared at him. 'I promise,' Mycroft added.

Sherlock finally nodded and turned back to watch the TV, though he didn't move, so Mycroft left his arm draped over his brother's shoulders.

'And...' Sherlock said softly after a few minutes, 'when you move away to university, you'll come back and visit a lot, right?'

Mycroft leaned down to press a kiss against Sherlock's messy curls. 'I promise,' he said.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Damn it!' Sherlock swore and pushed his cards aside. Mycroft smirked and dragged the cigarettes they'd been using as currency towards his steadily growing pile.

'You just have to try harder,' Mycroft said and started shuffling the cards.

'I hate this game,' Sherlock scowled. 'Who decided we should count to twenty-one, anyway? Why not eighteen?'

'You're only saying that because you got eighteen the last three times,' Mycroft said.

Sherlock flipped him off and looked down at the last six cigarettes he had. 'Can't we play poker?' he asked.

'We both count the cards; how is that fun?' Mycroft questioned.

'How is _this_ fun?' Sherlock retorted.

Mycroft chuckled. 'We could always ask Gregory and Dimmock to join us; I'm sure you can beat them.'

He looked up when Sherlock didn't say anything and saw that the younger boy was clearly thinking hard; it was a toss up between Sherlock winning cigarettes, which he wouldn't be able to buy himself for another four years, or having Mycroft all to himself.

'Fine,' he finally said. 'Go get your boyfriend and his friend.'

Mycroft went and fetched Greg and Dimmock, who were arguing over what season of _Supernatural_ to watch. (“You can't just skip the first few seasons 'cause the angel's your favourite, Greg!” “Fuck you, Dimmock, I wanna stare at Misha Collins!”)

'What's up?' Greg asked when he spotted his partner.

'Sherlock and I were wondering if you wanted to play 21 with us,' Mycroft said. 'He keeps losing and wants to play with people he can actually beat.'

'Okay,' Greg hummed, looking bemused.

'I'll play,' Dimmock said and hopped off the bed. 'Greg won't shut up about Castiel anyway.'

'The dude's hot, how can you blame me?' Greg demanded.

Dimmock just flipped him off as he left the room.

'Are you and Sherlock having fun?' Greg asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. He drew Greg in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

'What was that for?' Greg questioned when they broke apart.

'I love you,' Mycroft said and Greg grinned stupidly.

'Yeah,' he chuckled. 'I love you, too.'

'And that makes you laugh?'

'No, sorry, I just...' Greg smiled and kissed Mycroft again. 'I forgot that I can just say that to you now.'

Mycroft shook his head. 'You're an idiot,' he said. He threaded their fingers together and tugged Greg out of the bedroom. 'Come on. I don't doubt that Sherlock will start experimenting on Dimmock if we leave them alone for too long.'

Greg laughed.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


After getting some more snacks and drinks, Mycroft and Greg sat on the floor in the living room.

'What are we playing again?' Greg asked.

'21,' Mycroft told him, 'or Blackjack; either name is correct. The aim of the game is to get as close to twenty-one as you can.'

'Yeah, yeah; I've played 21 before,' Greg said. 'So who's the dealer?'

'I am,' Mycroft said. 'But I'll play all the cards facing down and we all bet with cigarettes. I'll flip my cards over first and then we'll go with Dimmock, you, and finally Sherlock. You can raise your bet at any time and ask for any number of cards. The person closest to twenty-one gets all the cigarettes.'

'Can we just play now?' Sherlock demanded.

Mycroft looked around the group, and when Greg and Dimmock both nodded, he dealt the cards.

'So is this how you two normally spend your Boxing Day?' Greg asked as he tossed two cigarettes- the standard bet- into the middle.

'Yes,' Mycroft answered.

'I can't believe you bet cigarettes with your thirteen-year-old brother,' Dimmock muttered, also tossing two cigarettes into the pot.

'We'd bet with chocolate or other sweets when we were younger,' Mycroft told them. He and Sherlock both added their cigarettes before Mycroft said, 'It was only last year that Sherlock decided to start using cigarettes as currency.'

'You started smoking at my age; you can't judge me,' Sherlock said.

'I started smoking at fourteen,' Mycroft corrected him.

'Liar,' Sherlock muttered. 'Turn your cards over.'

Mycroft did as asked and smirked; a king and an ace. 'Twenty-one,' he said out-loud and grinned at the group. Sherlock glared at him. 'I may be nice enough to let anyone else who gets twenty-one have half of my winnings.'

Sherlock immediately flipped his own cards over and swore when he saw that he'd got sixteen. He immediately said, 'Hit me,' and then swore again when he got a king and busted.

Dimmock went next and got twelve, and his next two cards busted him as well, while Greg just said, 'Stand,' when his first two cards revealed nineteen.

'Are you cheating?' Sherlock demanded.

'Of course not,' Mycroft tutted. 'I'm just very, very good at playing 21.'

Sherlock glared at him. 'Re-shuffle the cards.'

'Your wish is my command,' Mycroft snickered and did as asked.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


The group were trying to decide what pizza to get for lunch when Maggie wandered in and sat on the sofa. 'Do you boys mind if I watch a movie?' she asked and brandished _Love Actually_ at them.

'Nah,' Greg said, while the other three shook their heads. 'Damn it,' he added when the next card Mycroft set down busted him.

'Ha!' Sherlock crooned as he flipped his cards over to reveal nineteen. Mycroft had busted as well, and Dimmock had stayed on eighteen. 'Suck it, Dimmock!' Sherlock poked his tongue out at the older boy, who just rolled his eyes.

'I still want meat lovers,' Dimmock said.

'Which is fine with me, as I've said the last forty times,' Greg grumbled.

'Meat lovers is disgusting,' Sherlock repeated.

'And I already said that I'd share whatever you want,' Mycroft sighed. 'You usually pick all the toppings off and just eat the base; what does it matter what we order?'

'You pick the toppings off?' Greg asked as his boyfriend shuffled the cards. 'But that's the best part.'

'Just because you think so, doesn't mean everybody agrees,' Sherlock snapped at Greg. 'Fine,' he finally said to his brother, 'order whatever you want.'

'Vegetarian,' Mycroft said to Greg, who'd groped for the house phone.

'Mum, you want anything?' Greg asked as he dialled.

'Supreme is fine,' Maggie said. 'And get some garlic bread and drinks- I'm assuming you lot have almost drunk everything.'

'Yeah,' Greg chuckled. 'Sherlock sure can pack the soda away for a little guy.'

'Shut your face, you plebeian,' Sherlock snarled, then yelped when Mycroft smacked him over the back of the head.

'Apologise,' Mycroft ordered.

Sherlock glared at his brother, but mumbled an apology. Maggie turned to look at the teenagers as she sat back down. 'What are you doing?' she asked when she noticed the pile of cigarettes in the middle of the group.

'Playing 21,' Mycroft answered. 'Would you like to play?'

'Sure,' Maggie shrugged, watching as Mycroft passed out the cards, laying Maggie's between himself and Dimmock. Mycroft flipped his cards over first and found two kings, so he stayed and added two more cigarettes to the pot. He turned to Maggie, who nodded, and then flipped her cards over. 'Hmm, twenty-one,' she smiled when she saw the ten and ace.

'Damn it,' Dimmock groaned. 'I'm never gonna win.'

'Yeah; a meat lovers, supreme, and vegetarian, all large,' Greg was saying on the phone as he flipped his own cards over, revealing a five and six. He gestured for Mycroft to draw another card as he said, 'And a 1.25 litre coke as well as two garlic breads... yeah, that sounds fine.' He gave his address, asked for another card, and then cursed when he busted. 'Uh- no, not you,' he hastily said over the phone, scowling when Mycroft, Dimmock and Sherlock snickered. 'Sorry, just playing cards... half-an-hour? Yeah, that's fine. Thanks.' He hung up and glared at the group. 'I hate you all.'

'And I got twenty,' Sherlock interrupted, tapping his cards. 'Hmm...'

'Can I just ask a quick question?' Maggie spoke suddenly. All eyes turned to her. 'You're betting with cigarettes,' she stated, pointing at the pile.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

'When all of you are under the age of eighteen and shouldn't, legally, have cigarettes,' Maggie continued. Sherlock, Mycroft and Dimmock all froze, while Greg just stared at his mum. 'One of you is only thirteen, if I remember correctly,' Maggie added, raising an eyebrow.

'Uh...' Greg tried.

'This is what I'm gonna do,' Maggie said, turning to face the TV. 'I'm gonna stare at the television for exactly ten seconds, and if those cigarettes are gone when I turn back around, I'm gonna pretend this never happened. Sound fair?'

The boys all scrambled to grab what cigarettes they could, and Maggie shook her head as she silently counted to ten. When she turned back around the cigarettes were gone, apart from two that had been snapped in half. Sherlock and Greg were glaring at each other, and Dimmock was trying to stuff his packet back into his pocket, while Mycroft busied himself with the cards.

'Why don't you go play in the bedroom until the pizza comes?' Maggie suggested.

'Sounds good,' Greg was quick to say.

'We can watch _Supernatural_ ,' Dimmock added.

The Holmes brothers just scrambled to their feet. In five seconds Maggie was alone and she chuckled as she settled back to watch her movie.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg stared as Sherlock slowly and methodically picked every single topping off of his slice of pizza, followed by the cheese. The food had arrived three hours ago, and Greg, Mycroft and Dimmock had all stuffed themselves while watching _Supernatural_. It had taken Sherlock a good twenty minutes to eat one piece, and he'd only started his second ten minutes after that. And now, three hours later, he was on his third slice.

Sherlock finally pulled all the cheese off and laid it on his plate before taking a bite of the sauce-covered base, and his eyes met Greg's as he chewed.

'You're a weirdo,' Greg stated.

Sherlock chewed slowly and swallowed before saying, 'And you show far too much interest in my eating habits.'

Between them, Mycroft sighed. Dimmock had already headed home, leaving a few DVDs behind, and Meghan had called to say that she'd pick Sherlock up at four, rather than make Mycroft drive all the way to the Manor and back again. Plus, Siger was home, and Meghan didn't want another... _incident_.

'Food is boring,' Sherlock finally added before taking another bite. 'I only eat when I 'ave to,' he mumbled through a mouthful.

'Don't speak with your mouth full,' Mycroft murmured.

'Don' tell me what to do,' Sherlock retorted.

'It's my job as your older brother to tell you what to do,' Mycroft said. 'And it's _your_ job as the _younger_ brother to do what I say.'

Sherlock scowled as he swallowed. 'One day I'll be taller than you,' he vowed, 'and then I'll make you do what _I_ want to do.'

'I always do what you want to do,' the red-head rolled his eyes.

'If that's true, then you'll take me and John to the movies tomorrow,' Sherlock said.

Mycroft titled his head, setting his blue eyes on his brother's own. Greg watched as his boyfriend raised an eyebrow.

Sherlock finally looked away and mumbled, 'What?'

'Is that your way of asking me to take you and John to the movies?' Mycroft asked.

Sherlock shrugged.

'Sherlock...?'

'Just take us to the movies!' Sherlock huffed. 'Father's home and he'll start shouting if he hears that I'm getting the bus.'

'Fine, fine,' Mycroft smiled. 'I'll take you and your boyfriend to the movies.'

'I despise you,' Sherlock muttered and shoved half of his pizza into his mouth.

Mycroft just chuckled and turned to Greg. 'Fancy a trip to the movies?'

'Sounds good,' Greg grinned.

'Oh, no,' Sherlock groaned. 'You're going to have sex in the movie theatre, aren't you?'

'Despite popular opinion, we _can_ control ourselves,' Greg sniffed. Mycroft and Sherlock both stared at him. 'Sometimes,' Greg amended.

'And by “sometimes” you mean “never”,' Sherlock said.

Mycroft snorted and Greg glared at him. 'What?' Mycroft smirked. 'It's true.'

'See if you get any tonight,' Greg huffed.

'I thought I owed you sex for giving Sherlock and me some time alone?' Mycroft questioned.

'I really don't need to hear this conversation!' Sherlock snapped.

'Then cover your ears,' Greg said and waved a hand at him. Sherlock stuck his middle finger up. 'You're a foul little bastard. Has anyone ever told you that?' Greg asked.

'My teachers,' Sherlock said as he chewed on the crust of his pizza, 'at least once a day.'

Greg frowned as he watched Sherlock eat. 'They shouldn't do that,' the brunette finally said, and the brothers looked at him. Greg shrugged and went back to watching _The Hour_ \- something Sherlock had demanded to watch after Dimmock left. 'You're only thirteen; they shouldn't say that shit to you,' Greg added. 'I bet you were just correcting them.'

Sherlock blinked rapidly at Greg before flicking his eyes to Mycroft.

'He loves me,' Mycroft shrugged. 'Ergo, he loves you, too.'

Sherlock looked torn between horrified and happy.

'He punched Dylan Saunders in the face for saying something about you,' Mycroft then said.

'How many times have you hit him?' Sherlock questioned.

'Too many times, and he still hasn't gotten the fucking message,' Greg scowled.

'I've learned that people aren't always who they appear to be, Lestrade,' Sherlock said.

'Yeah,' Greg hummed and glanced at Mycroft, 'but sometimes that's a good thing.'

Mycroft smiled, and Greg leaned over to kiss him.

'You're both disgusting and I'll hate you for eternity,' Sherlock declared and reached for more pizza. The couple just laughed at him.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'You'll be at the Manor no latter than ten,' Sherlock stated as he pulled his coat on. Maggie was chatting with Meghan by the door, no doubt organising another afternoon tea, and Greg was hanging around the kitchen, watching as Mycroft walked his brother out. 'Then it's straight to John's to pick him up, and we'll eat lunch, and then see what _John_ wants to see, and then-'

'And then shopping or whatever else you and your boyfriend want to do, followed by dinner,' Mycroft interrupted. 'Afterwards I'll drive you both home.' He looked pointedly at his sibling. 'I _know_ , Sherlock.'

Sherlock scowled and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

'What, no hug?' Mycroft asked. Sherlock just shrugged, so Mycroft closed the distance between them and pulled Sherlock into a tight hug. Sherlock resisted for all of five seconds before winding his arms around his older brother. 'I had fun today,' Mycroft murmured into Sherlock's curls.

'I did too, I suppose,' Sherlock mumbled. 'Even though Lestrade and Dimmock were there.'

'And we'll have fun tomorrow, too,' Mycroft said. He drew back and smiled at the younger boy. 'I promise we'll spend more time together these holidays.'

'And when we go back to school?' Sherlock asked. The red-head nodded, and Sherlock hugged him again before stepping back. 'Thank you for letting me stay,' he said.

'Not a problem,' Mycroft answered.

The brunette glanced past Mycroft, looking at Greg briefly before turning away. 'And tell Lestrade... thanks, I suppose,' he mumbled. With that he turned on the spot and raced out the door.

Mycroft chuckled.

Seeing that her youngest son was waiting outside by the car, Meghan smiled at Maggie. 'I'll see you on Saturday, Margaret.'

'I'm looking forward to it,' Maggie smiled back. 'Take care, Meghan.'

Meghan nodded and turned to her son, her smile softening. 'It was good to see you, Mycroft.'

'You too, Mummy,' Mycroft replied. He allowed his mother to hug him, and Meghan tutted as she ran her fingers through his hair.

'You need a haircut,' she mused before pulling back. 'And we need to have lunch soon.'

'Perhaps the day after tomorrow?' Mycroft suggested. 'I'm spending tomorrow with Sherlock, and Gregory.'

'Give me a call and we'll work something out,' Meghan said. Her eyes found Greg, who waved weakly and then flushed when his mum teased him as she headed into the kitchen. 'And maybe Gregory can join us some time,' Meghan added.

Mycroft's eyebrows jumped in surprise. 'Pardon?'

'I should get to know your boyfriend better,' Meghan stated. 'Especially if you love him.' She beamed when Mycroft flushed faintly, but Mycroft agreed and shut the door behind her when she left.

'What'd she say?' Greg asked when he notice the blush.

'She wants to have lunch with us- _both of us_ ,' Mycroft said. Greg's mouth dropped open. 'Apparently she wants to get to know you better,' Mycroft added.

Greg blinked. 'That's terrifying,' he murmured. 'What would we even talk about?'

'I have no idea,' Mycroft admitted.

Maggie came out of the kitchen with a thermos of coffee and smiled at them both. 'Well, I'm off to work,' she said and went to collect her jacket. 'You boys behave.'

'We always behave,' Greg said, a hand flying to his chest, a look of outrage on his face.

Maggie snorted and patted her son on the head. 'Of course you do, sweetie,' she snickered. 'Have a nice night,' she said before leaving, the door locking behind her with a click.

'So...' Greg hummed and turned to look at Mycroft.

Mycroft raised his eyebrows. 'So...?' he echoed.

'Did you enjoy your day with Sherlock?' Greg asked.

'I did,' Mycroft nodded. 'I hadn't realised how little time we'd been spending with each other until Sherlock pointed it out.'

'You'll just have to make more time,' Greg said.

'And you're okay with that?'

The older boy shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. 'I'd miss you,' he mumbled. And it was true; he practically spent every second of every day with Mycroft. Their friends were right, they were scarily co-dependant. 'But,' Greg added after a minute, 'Sherlock's your brother; you should make time for him, especially if he misses you. I'll be fine.'

Greg looked up when he felt arms wrap around his waist, and smiled when Mycroft pressed a kiss to his cheek. 'I love you,' Mycroft murmured.

'I love you, too,' Greg replied with a grin.

Mycroft just hummed and kissed his cheek again.

'You know...' Greg said suddenly, 'it's only just after four; too early for dinner, unless you're _really_ hungry.' Mycroft pulled back to look at him. 'What do you wanna do?' Greg asked. 'You know, now that we're alone... and there won't be anyone else in the house until tomorrow morning... and there's _nothing_ to do... and-'

Mycroft snorted and cut Greg off with a kiss. Greg groaned when Mycroft's tongue slipped into his mouth, stroking against his own before disappearing. Mycroft's arms tightened around the brunette briefly before his hands slipped down to Greg's hips. He tugged on Greg's shirt, pushing his boyfriend towards the hallway, and Greg grinned.

'I owe you sex, don't I?' Mycroft murmured as they stumbled down the hallway, Greg's lips fastened to Mycroft's neck.

'Damn right you do,' Greg growled before biting down.

Mycroft swore and reached between them, his hand palming Greg's erection through his jeans.

'Oh, God,' Greg groaned. 'You're gonna kill me with all this sex, you know that, right?'

They finally stopped before the bedroom door and Mycroft grinned as he stripped his shirt off and dropped it on the floor.

'Oh, God,' Greg moaned again as he was dragged into the bedroom. He kicked the door shut as he felt Mycroft's body press against his own. Well, at least he'd go out happy.


	94. Poprocks & Coke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Title:** Poprocks  & Coke by Green Day
> 
> **Beta:** sofienolongerexists

'Gregory, honestly,' Mycroft sighed when he walked back into the bedroom. He'd left twenty minutes earlier to shower, and Gregory was _still_ in bed. He hadn't seemed to move, but there was now a towel and boxer shorts on the floor which had previously been on the back of Greg's desk chair. Which led Mycroft to believe that his boyfriend _had_ got up, grabbed his clothes, and then thought, _fuck it_ , before climbing back into bed again.

'Nnmf,' Greg mumbled from somewhere in the middle of the bed. He was curled into a ball, the blankets tugged over his head, and the only part of his partner that Mycroft could see was his left foot.

'We have to pick up Sherlock in half-an-hour, so get up,' Mycroft ordered.

'No,' Greg huffed, his voice still muffled.

'You said you wanted to come,' Mycroft reminded him as he picked up Greg's boxers and towel. 'If you don't want to, then stay in bed.'

'I _do_ want to come,' Greg complained. He sat up suddenly, pulling the blanket from over his head so he could glare at his boyfriend. 'But _you_ climbed out of bed.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes. They'd stayed up until at least midnight the night before having sex, and Greg had cornered him _again_ after Mycroft had had a shower the previous night; hence the need for another shower now. Sherlock would throw a tantrum if Mycroft turned up smelling like sex.

'I think we had enough sex last night, Gregory dear,' Mycroft said and threw Greg's towel at him. 'So get up.'

'I _am_ up,' Greg complained, _again_. He grinned suddenly and shuffled forward on his knees, the towel hanging over one shoulder.

Mycroft eyed him wearily. He knew not to trust that grin. 'What?' he asked.

'Nothing,' Greg smirked. 'Just come here.'

'Why?'

'I wanna give you a kiss,' Greg said.

'I very much doubt that,' Mycroft mumbled, eyeing the naked skin he could see. Greg was in boxers- _only_ in boxers- and the red-head's eyes rolled up and down his boyfriend's flat chest and stomach.

'Aww, come on,' Greg whined and shuffled forward again. He was now kneeling on the edge of the bed, a foot between him and Mycroft. 'It's just a good morning kiss, Myc.'

Mycroft's eyebrows went up. 'You're telling me that if I come over there all you'll do is kiss me?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

'You promise?' Mycroft asked.

The brunette nodded again.

'If we're late Sherlock will throw a tantrum,' Mycroft said, taking a small step forward, 'and if it's _your_ fault, you're not getting any sex for at least a month.'

Greg snorted at that, but smiled brightly when Mycroft finally closed the gap between them. Greg leaned up and pressed his lips gently to his Mycroft's, and Mycroft sighed slightly, returning the kiss softly.

And then, of course, Greg quickly unzipped Mycroft's fly and slid a hand into his boxer-briefs.

'Gregory!' Mycroft hissed when he felt fingers wrap around his cock.

'What?' Greg hummed innocently, even as his palm quickly got Mycroft hard. 'You saying no to a blow job?'

'You're only holding me- _son of a bitch_!' Mycroft bit his lip as Greg pulled his cock through the slit in his briefs and out his open jeans, Greg's lips and tongue soon swallowing his erection down. 'Greg!'

'Mmf,' was Greg's muffled reply, his mouth otherwise occupied. He let the musk of Mycroft's skin and the scent of the younger boy's body wash invade his senses, and groaned when he felt pre-come touch his tongue.

Greg sucked and licked up and down Mycroft's shaft quickly, his tongue circling the head and beneath it, his lips pressing gently yet firmly to heated skin. He swallowed when the crown of Mycroft's dick hit the back of his throat, and would have smirked when Mycroft groaned throatily if he could.

As it was, he just sucked harder, tongue tracing the thick vein when he pulled back. He suckled on the head before going back down, and dug his fingers into Mycroft's hips, urging the red-head to thrust.

Mycroft didn't need much encouragement; his hands went to either side of Greg's head, and his nails dug into Greg's hair and scalp as he held him in place. His hips thrust forward, sliding his cock further down Greg's throat, and Greg easily took him in. Mycroft was big, but Greg had had a lot of practise by now.

Mycroft wasn't gonna last long, Greg could tell; his fingers were pressing harder against Greg's head, his hips were moving faster, and his breathing was picking up. Greg wrapped one hand around the base of Mycroft's dick and stroked what wasn't in his mouth, squeezing tightly when Mycroft hissed.

'Fuck, Gregory, yes, yes, _yes_...' Mycroft moaned. Greg grunted in reply. 'God, I'm gonna come...' Mycroft trailed off, incoherent noises now the only thing escaping his mouth.

There was barely any warning before Mycroft came; he just held onto Greg's head and jammed his cock into Greg's mouth as far as he could, making Greg swallow everything as the brunette tried to breathe.

Mycroft finally pulled out, saliva and come dribbling down his cock and Greg's chin. Greg groaned and licked his swollen lips before shoving a hand down his boxers. He grasped his swollen cock and pulled quickly, whimpering as he leaned his forehead against Mycroft's thigh.

Mycroft was still breathing heavily but he leaned down anyway and captured Greg's lips, licking his way into the older boy's mouth to taste himself. He pushed Greg back, making his boyfriend lie on the unmade bed. He brushed Greg's hand aside and wrapped his own long, thin fingers around Greg's erection.

'Fuck,' Greg breathed heavily against Mycroft's tongue.

'Come for me,' Mycroft mumbled as he kissed, bit and licked along Greg's jaw, to his ear, and down his neck. Greg whimpered in response and Mycroft tugged on his earlobe. 'Come on.'

Greg's hips jolted off the mattress as he thrust into Mycroft's hand. It didn't take long for him to climax, his back arching, his come painting Mycroft's fist and his own stomach. He slowly slumped back to the bed as Mycroft milked the orgasm from him, only stopping when Greg hissed.

Mycroft groaned as he fell onto the bed beside his partner, both staring at the ceiling as their bodies calmed down.

'I hate you, Gregory,' Mycroft finally muttered.

'What?' Greg grunted. 'I just sucked you off, you should love me.'

'We're going to be late,' the auburn-haired teen sighed.

'So? Let Sherlock bitch,' Greg shrugged. He turned, shifting to lean on one elbow, and looked down at Mycroft, who just stared at him. 'Seriously, you're the biggest guy I've ever been with,' he commented for what felt like the fiftieth time since they'd gotten together.

Rolling his eyes, Mycroft said, 'Really, Gregory, I'm hardly _that_ big.'

'Bigger than me,' Greg said.

'Just how big do you think I am?' Mycroft asked. He sat up to lean on his elbows, eyes trained on Greg.

'Er...' Greg hesitated, looking down at Mycroft's dick, which was lying against his open fly. 'Um... twelve inches?'

Mycroft burst into laughter and Greg scowled. He whacked his boyfriend, which didn't make Mycroft shut up, but the hand suddenly gripping his cock _tightly_ did the trick.

'Ow, Gregory!' Mycroft hissed and swatted him away.

'Why are you laughing at me?' Greg demanded.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft giggled. 'But if my dick was twelve inches long, we would _definitely_ have problems with anal sex.'

Greg groaned and flopped forward onto his stomach, apparently not caring that he was still covered in come. 'Don't call it anal sex,' he complained.

'Hmm,' Mycroft hummed, lying back down beside his partner. He trailed his fingers down Greg's back and asked, 'What should I call it, then?'

'I dunno,' Greg mumbled into his pillow. 'Butt sex or fucking or... you know, anything but _anal sex_. It just sounds weird.'

Mycroft was silent for about a minute, his fingers still ghosting up and down Greg's smooth skin. 'You're very bad at acurate measurement using inches,' he finally stated.

'Wha'?' Greg grumbled.

'Do you even know how big an inch is?' Mycroft asked.

Greg struggled to hold one of his hands up, and eventually just rolled over. He held his index finger and thumb about a centimetre apart, making Mycroft snort.

'No, Gregory,' he tisked and corrected his boyfriend's fingers. 'An inch is roughly 2.5 centimetres.'

Greg blinked. 'Oh.'

'Did you pay attention in maths, or...?'

'Shut up,' Greg huffed, slapping Mycroft in the stomach. The red-head smirked. 'Okay, Mr Genius, how big are you, then?'

'Fully erect, I'm about 7.4 inches,' Mycroft replied.

'Okay...' Greg hummed, 'is that average, or...?'

'The average can range between 5 and 6 inches, depending on what study you look at, and what country,' Mycroft answered. 'I really don't think it matters.'

'It matters when you're bottoming,' Greg said. 'I mean, one inch is hardly gonna fill you up, is it?'

'I think the person you're with matters more than the length of their dick, Gregory.'

'Not with a one-night stand, it doesn't,' Greg retorted. 'I mean, I wouldn't care if _your_ dick was only one inch long, but that's different.'

'Is it?' Mycroft asked, one eyebrow going up.

''Course it is,' Greg grinned. He leaned over and pressed his lips to Mycroft's, drawing the younger boy in for a gentle kiss. When they broke apart, he said, 'I love you, no matter what size your cock is.'

'That's good to know,' Mycroft chuckled.

'So how big am I, then?' Greg asked, gesturing to his crotch. 'I've never measured myself- hey, we should do that!'

'Please no,' Mycroft groaned, flopping onto his back. He really didn't want to try and explain why they had a _tape measure_ in their bedroom when it was inevitably found... then again, an explanation probably wouldn't be necessary.

'Fine, tell me how big I am,' Greg said. He wiggled his hips, his dick flopping between his legs, and Mycroft snorted. 'Go on,' Greg insisted.

'Fine,' Mycroft said. 'I think you'd be about 5.7 or something; just under 6 inches.'

'Awesome,' Greg grinned. 'At the bigger end of average.'

'You're an idiot,' Mycroft rolled his eyes, but kissed the brunette anyway. 'For the record, your cock pleases me, so don't feel the need to try and make it bigger.'

'How the hell would I do that?' Greg questioned.

'There are many, many weird things that you can buy on the internet, Gregory dear,' Mycroft said. He sat up and shuffled off the bed, Greg watching as he tucked himself away.

'I'm not about to buy some weird machine or drug, Mycroft,' Greg said. 'What if it turns my dick green?'

'Shut up and get dressed,' Mycroft said, pointing from Greg to the wardrobe.

Greg groaned, but finally slid from the mattress. 'Shouldn't I have a shower?' he asked as he slid his boxers off.

'We don't have time,' the genius replied. 'Just hurry up, get dressed, and spray yourself with deodorant.'

'Yes, sir,' Greg muttered. Mycroft threw a pair of jeans at him, and Greg snickered.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'I hate your brother,' Greg grumbled.

Mycroft smiled as he backed out of the driveway, not saying anything until they were driving down the street. 'Yes, I've heard that before. Multiple times, actually.'

'Seriously,' Greg insisted. 'What thirteen-year-old wants to get up at ten am?'

'I think it's safe to assume that Sherlock didn't bother sleeping last night,' Mycroft said. Greg frowned, looking at his boyfriend. 'Sherlock has always had trouble sleeping,' his partner explained, 'and it's just gotten worse as he's got older. He usually crashes after staying up for a few days. Or when John stays over.'

'Huh,' Greg hummed and turned to look out the window. 'Still. It's fucking cold and you kept me up all night.'

'Excuse me?' Mycroft demanded. 'You were the one who jumped me the third _and_ fourth time. And you chose to drop to your knees in the shower; I didn't force you.'

'It's your fault,' the brunette insisted. 'You just lay there all sexily and then you're even hotter with water everywhere and... how the hell am I supposed to control myself?'

Mycroft just chuckled and ignored him as Greg continued to complain about getting up early. Mycroft knew that Greg wasn't really upset; he just liked to be annoying.

Besides, it really was his own fault; he was the one who had ravished Mycroft thirty minutes earlier.

Sherlock was waiting just around the corner from Holmes Manor and scowled at Greg when he hopped into his brother's Jag.

'What?' Greg asked.

'You're late,' Sherlock said.

'Mycroft's fault,' Greg replied instantly.

' _My_ fault?' Mycroft growled. 'You're the one who-'

'Hey,' Greg interrupted and punched Mycroft in the shoulder, 'not in front of the thirteen-year-old.'

Mycroft glared at him but pressed his lips together, making Greg smirk.

'Why do you get to sit in the front?' Sherlock demanded suddenly.

'Do you really wanna leave me and John alone in the back?' Greg asked. 'We might plan to annoy you together.'

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. 'John would never plan to annoy me with anyone.'

'You sure about that?' Greg responded.

Sherlock was silent for a few seconds before stating, 'I hate you, Lestrade.'

'Aww, I love you too, sweetie,' Greg said, blowing a kiss over his shoulder.

'Can't you two get along for five minutes?' Mycroft asked.

'No,' Sherlock answered. 'Lestrade's annoying.'

' _You're_ annoying,' Greg muttered.

'Please?' Mycroft sighed. 'I'll buy you both something pretty.'

'Ooh, something pretty?' Greg grinned. 'Like what?'

'Anything you want,' Mycroft said, 'just stop bickering.'

'Can I have a new microscope?' Sherlock asked.

'I bought you one for your birthday,' Mycroft frowned.

The younger Holmes rolled his eyes. 'That was last January, Mycroft. I broke it a few weeks ago.'

'How?' his brother demanded.

'None of your business,' Sherlock sniffed.

Mycroft stopped at a red light and turned to face the younger teenager. 'Did you drop it?'

'No,' Sherlock denied, though he looked away.

'You dropped it,' Mycroft shook his head and turned back around. 'Microscopes are expensive, Sherlock.'

'It's not like you don't have money.'

'That's not the point,' the red-head groaned.

'Buy me a new microscope and I'll get along with your boy toy,' Sherlock said.

'Hey!' Greg snapped, but Sherlock ignored him.

'I'll get along with him for the whole day; I won't say anything,' Sherlock added.

Mycroft tapped his fingers against the steering wheel and sighed when the light changed. 'Fine,' he said. 'No bickering, no calling Gregory names, and no being a little brat, understand? If you can behave for the entire day I'll buy you a new microscope tomorrow.'

'Deal,' Sherlock grinned. He leaned back in his seat, looking pleased with himself.

'I wish you were more like John,' Mycroft muttered as he drove.

'That's impossible,' his brother stated. 'John's the sweetest person in the world.'

'So why's he with you?' Greg asked.

Sherlock opened his mouth to snap at the brunette, but caught sight of Mycroft in the rear-view mirror. He shut his jaw with a click and turned to scowl out the window.

'Wow,' Greg mused, 'so bribery actually works. Hey, I still get something pretty, right?'

Mycroft just shook his head.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


They picked up John, who greeted everyone with a cheery smile, before driving to the shopping centre. The food court was already open and Sherlock announced that he wanted KFC. Greg just shrugged and John agreed, so they walked towards the fast food restaurant.

'Why are you being so quiet?' Greg heard John ask Sherlock. He and his boyfriend were walking just behind Greg and Mycroft, their fingers linked; Greg thought it was adorable.

'I made a deal with Mycroft,' Sherlock murmured, sounding annoyed.

'What kind of deal?' John asked.

'I get a new microscope if I can get along with Lestrade for the day.'

'Wow,' John blinked. It wasn't that Sherlock hated Greg (at least Greg didn't think that he did), it was more that Sherlock just... didn't really get along with anyone. Besides John, of course. John seemed to be the exception to everything. 'Are you sure you can manage that?'

'Yes!' Sherlock snapped. 'I can get along with Lestrade for a new microscope; I'll just ignore him.'

'That's not getting along with him, Sherlock,' Mycroft said, turning to glare at his brother.

Sherlock poked his tongue out and John rolled his eyes. Greg just snickered.

They reached the KFC and Mycroft took Sherlock and John's orders; John tried to hand some money over but Sherlock grabbed his boyfriend's hand and dragged him away before he could. Mycroft shook his head and turned to face the counter.

'Are you getting anything?' Greg asked.

'Maybe just some chips,' Mycroft replied. 'I'm not that hungry.'

'I'll get a burger combo,' Greg said, making Mycroft raise his eyebrows. 'What?'

'Gregory, we ate breakfast less than two hours ago.'

'So?' Greg said. 'I'm a growing boy.'

'You're going to grow out if you keep eating the way you do.'

'Ouch, Mycroft, that really hurt,' the older boy pouted dramatically, a hand going to his chest. 'Are you saying I'm fat?'

'No,' Mycroft chuckled, 'I'm saying that you'll _become fat_ if you keep eating as much as you do.'

'I will not,' Greg huffed. 'Besides, you'll still love me, right?' Mycroft just hummed, and Greg slapped his stomach. 'Right!'

'Yes, of course,' Mycroft laughed again. He leaned over and kissed Greg chastely. 'I'll love you no matter what you look like.'

'Good,' Greg scowled and crossed his arms.

'I was just joking, love.'

'Sure you were.'

'Do you want me to buy you two pretty things instead of one?' Mycroft asked.

'My love can't be bought,' Greg mumbled.

'Are you sure about that?' Mycroft asked. 'What about a new AC/DC album?'

Greg chewed on his bottom lip before spinning to face his boyfriend. 'You sure know the way to a man's heart.'

Mycroft shook his head and kissed Greg again.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'So what movie are we seeing?' Greg asked as he munched on his chips.

'Whatever John wants to see,' Sherlock replied.

'What?' John frowned. 'No, we should see something we all want to see.'

'Mycroft already agreed to my terms,' Sherlock told his boyfriend.

'I really don't mind, John,' Mycroft said before John could argue some more. 'Whatever you want to see is fine with me.'

'Me too,' Greg added. 'I don't even know what's on.'

Sherlock just shrugged, while John played with his chips.

'Anything you wanna see, John?' Greg asked.

'Um...' the smaller boy hummed before saying, 'well, _The Hobbit_ has been out a while... maybe we could go see that?'

Sherlock frowned and asked, 'What's _The Hobbit_?'

His brother stared at him, while Greg asked, 'Seriously? Even I know what _The Hobbit_ is.'

Sherlock scowled at him. He clearly wanted to snap at him, but the promise of a new microscope was keeping his tongue in check. Greg winked.

' _The Hobbit_ is a novel by J.R.R. Tolkien that was recently made into a movie,' Mycroft finally explained. 'It's the prequel to _The Lord of the Rings_ series.'

'I loved the book,' John admitted, smiling shyly at them all, 'and I've read _The Lord of the Rings_ and seen all the movies.'

'I don't mind seeing _The Hobbit_ ,' Greg shrugged and crammed another chip into his mouth.

'Me either,' Mycroft said.

'Are you sure?' John asked, looking concerned. 'I really don't mind what we see.'

'Neither do we,' Mycroft said. 'You're the only one who actually wants to see something so we'll watch _The Hobbit_.'

'And get popcorn,' Sherlock said.

'And popcorn,' Mycroft rolled his eyes.

'And drinks,' Sherlock added.

'Yes, Sherlock, and drinks,' his brother sighed.

Sherlock paused for about a second before saying, 'And sweets.'

'How about I just give you my credit card and you can buy whatever you want?' Mycroft snapped.

'I like that plan,' Sherlock grinned. He held his hand out and the red-head swore before reaching for his wallet. Instead of pulling out a card, he handed Sherlock a £50 note. Sherlock pouted. 'But-'

'If you spend all of that today, it's your own fault,' Mycroft told him, putting his wallet away. 'I'm not giving you any more.'

'But you're still paying for my ticket, right?' Sherlock asked.

'Sherlock...' John sighed.

'Yes, I'm still paying for your ticket; I told you I would,' Mycroft said.

'I have money,' John piped in. 'So I can pay for myself.'

'Yeah, me too,' Greg said. 'I don't need other people to pay for me,' he added, grinning at Sherlock.

Sherlock scowled, while Mycroft said, 'Gregory, that's not getting along with my brother.'

'Fine, fine,' Greg flapped a hand. 'I'm sorry.'

'So you should be,' Sherlock sniffed and went back to destroying his nuggets. He'd only ordered five and, apparently, thought that they needed to be ripped to shreds rather than eaten.

'Do you ever eat?' Greg questioned. When Sherlock and Mycroft both looked at him, Greg added, 'I'm not trying to start a fight, I'm just curious.'

'I eat when I must,' Sherlock muttered.

'And by that he means that he only eats when he's on the verge of collapsing from a lack of food,' Mycroft said.

'Food is only necessary to fuel my body, and therefore my mind,' Sherlock said. 'I eat because I have to, not because I want to.'

'But... food's awesome,' Greg frowned. 'Seriously, there's heaps of delicious stuff to eat, and heaps of stuff that you haven't tried yet.'

'Don't bother, Gregory,' Mycroft sighed.

'Yeah, I've been trying to get Sherlock to eat more for years,' John said. 'He only eats half of my lunch every day because I promise to do experiments with him.'

' _Really_ ,' Greg grinned and waggled his eyes.

John blushed, mumbling, 'I didn't mean it like that,' before busying himself with his chicken.

'I know,' Greg laughed. 'Sorry, mate, I couldn't help it.' He polished off the rest of his chips and said, 'So, should I check for movie times on my mobile, or are we checking when we get there?'

'We'll just check when we get there,' Mycroft said and stood.

'Where are you going?' Greg asked, glancing from Mycroft to his half-eaten food.

'Cigarette,' Mycroft replied.

'I'll join you.' Greg stood too and looked at Sherlock and John. 'If you finish eating before we get back, head up to the cinema and we'll met you there. Decide what movie time you want then we'll go get snacks and stuff.'

John nodded, while Sherlock ignored the older teenagers in favour of tearing apart his nuggets. Greg wrinkled his nose but just shook his head and followed Mycroft.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mycroft's BlackBerry rang just as they stepped outside, and Greg lit a cigarette as he watched his boyfriend answer.

'Hello, Mummy.'

Greg's eyebrows jumped but he didn't say anything, just smoked in silence as he listened to Mycroft's side of the conversation.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded after about two minutes. 'As far as I'm aware we don't have anything planned, so we should be able to make it.' Mycroft's eyes slid to Greg, and Greg raised his eyebrows, but the red-head didn't say anything to him. 'No, that's fine, I can drive,' Mycroft told his mother. 'Twelve? No, it's not too early... yes, we'll be there... I promise, Mummy.' Mycroft sighed. 'I _promise_... it'll be fine, he'll agree... okay... I love you, too. Bye.'

Mycroft finally hung up and looked back at Greg.

'What was that about?' Greg asked.

'My mother wants to have lunch with us tomorrow,' Mycroft told him as he dug out his cigarettes and lit one.

'Tomorrow?' Greg asked, fidgeting when Mycroft nodded. 'But... that's a bit soon, isn't it? She only said she wanted to have lunch, like, yesterday.'

'My mother isn't one to beat around the bush when she sets her mind to something,' Mycroft sighed. He took a long drag of his cigarette before adding, 'If you really don't want to go, you don't have to.'

'No, I do,' Greg immediately replied. 'I already said I would, didn't I?' Mycroft just shrugged. 'Besides, I should get to know your mother,' Greg continued. 'That's something couples do, yeah? Spend time with each other's parents?'

Mycroft just nodded and looked down, scuffing his sneaker against the concrete path as he smoked. Greg wondered if his boyfriend was thinking about his dad; Siger Holmes _definitely_ didn't want to get to know Greg.

'So, twelve?' Greg asked, breaking the silence.

'Mm, at a café near the Pier,' Mycroft responded.

'Awesome, I love cafés,' Greg grinned cheerily.

Mycroft snorted.

'Hey, it'll be fine,' Greg said. He closed the distance between them and pecked Mycroft on the lips. 'I'll be on my best behaviour, promise.'

'I'm afraid I can't promise that my mother will do the same,' Mycroft sighed. 'But, hopefully, she won't say anything...'

'Embarrassing?' Greg suggested.

'Mortifying,' Mycroft corrected. 'She has the habit of talking about Sherlock and me when we were babies.'

'God, why do parents do that?' Greg demanded. 'Mum does the same thing, and she must've taken a thousand fucking pictures of me naked when I was three.'

Mycroft smirked and blew smoke in Greg's face. 'But Gregory, you have such a lovely arse.'

'Shut it,' Greg groaned and buried his face in Mycroft's neck.

Mycroft ran his free fingers through Greg's hair, making the older boy hum. 'Are you sure you don't mind having lunch with my mother?' he asked softly.

'I don't care,' Greg shrugged one shoulder. 'I love you, so I'll go.'

Mycroft smiled and pressed a kiss to the side of Greg's head. 'Thank you.'

'No worries,' Greg replied.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


_The Hobbit_ was pretty good, much to Greg's surprise. Not that he'd thought it would be bad; he'd just planned on spending most of the movie snogging Mycroft. Unfortunately, Sherlock sat on Mycroft's other side, and whenever Greg so much as _hinted_ at kissing his boyfriend, Sherlock would hiss at them. That didn't stop Sherlock and John from snogging every half hour, and Mycroft just told Greg to be quiet when Greg tried to interrupt the younger couple.

Fucking Holmeses.

By the time the movie finished, Greg felt like he'd eaten his body weight in popcorn, and groaned as they left the cinema, one hand on his stomach.

'You're not getting sick, are you?' Mycroft asked, pressing his palm to Greg's forehead.

'No,' Greg mumbled, 'just ate too much... I think.'

'The block of chocolate you ate _with_ the popcorn and giant Coke probably wasn't a good idea either,' John piped in. Sherlock remained silent, clearly having nothing nice to say.

'I'll be fine,' Greg waved a hand. 'So what are we doing now?'

'Going to John's,' Sherlock finally spoke. 'Father's home and I have no desire to spend any time with him at the Manor.'

Mycroft's face tightened at that information, but he didn't say anything.

'Mother already said I could,' Sherlock added.

'And my parents said yes,' John smiled. 'But we don't have to go right now, if you two want to do anything.'

'I just wanna sit down,' Greg grumbled, pouting at his still churning stomach.

Mycroft glanced at his boyfriend before turning back to the younger couple. 'We'll just drop you off and head home.'

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg sat slumped in the passenger seat as Mycroft, Sherlock and John stepped from the car. John thanked them and said goodbye before heading into the house, greeting his mum who came out to say hello.

Sherlock watched his boyfriend disappear into the house before turning to his brother. 'Thank you,' he mumbled, so softly that Greg couldn't hear. Then again, Greg's eyes were closed, and Mycroft had the sneaking suspicion that the other boy had passed out.

'You don't need to thank me, Sherlock,' the older Holmes replied. 'Did you have fun?' Sherlock nodded. 'Good. We'll do something together, just the two of us, soon. Okay?'

'Okay,' Sherlock echoed and quickly hugged his brother.

Mycroft kissed the top of Sherlock's curly head and said, 'I'll see you soon. Let me know when you're free.'

Sherlock nodded and stepped back. He waved briefly before dashing up the path and then into the house, slamming the front door shut behind him. Mycroft chuckled and walked around the car.

Greg jolted up when Mycroft climbed into the Jag, and then groaned. 'Never again,' he mumbled. 'Chocolate's evil.'

'You shouldn't have eaten as much as you did,' Mycroft said, thinking about the breakfast they'd scarfed down after having some fun in bed, followed by KFC, and _then_ popcorn, chocolate, soda, and other sweets. 'I'm surprised you haven't hurled already.'

Greg groaned at the very word and pressed his forehead against the window.

When they got home Greg slipped down to his boxers and crawled into bed, curling up and clutching his stomach. Mycroft rooted around in the bathroom cabinet and found some anti-nausea medicine which he made his boyfriend take. That knocked Greg right out, but not before he mumbled, 'Thank you, love you,' against Mycroft's thigh.

Mycroft just smiled and brushed his hand through Greg's hair before picking up a book and settling back.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Where's Greg?' Maggie asked that night when she walked into the house after work. Mycroft had ordered pizza for dinner, not having the skills to cook anything other than canned soup, and was sitting on the sofa, eating and watching _The Fellowship of the Ring_ on DVD.

'He's sick,' Mycroft replied. 'We went to the movies today and he ate too much.'

Maggie rolled her eyes as she dumped her bag and coat and fell onto the sofa. 'He never learns,' she shook her head. 'When he as younger and I took him out, he'd eat too much and end up throwing up on the way home. The same thing happened on every school trip he took when he was in primary school.'

She peered over at the box of pizza on the coffee table, and Mycroft said, 'There's a supreme and meat lovers in the fridge, as well as more garlic bread.'

'Thank you, Mycroft,' Maggie smiled and stood. 'So what have you been up to without Greg?' she questioned. It was odd, seeing one without the other. Maggie had got so used to seeing them joined at the hip that it just seemed... wrong.

'Reading mostly,' Mycroft responded. 'But I read three books this afternoon and decided to watch _The Lord of the Rings._ We saw _The Hobbit_ today and I was in the mood.'

'Oh, was _The Hobbit_ any good?' Maggie asked, re-entering the sitting room with a plate of pizza and a can of lemonade. 'Phil and I were thinking of seeing it.'

'It was good,' Mycroft nodded. 'I liked the book better.'

'I've never read it,' Maggie admitted. 'Then again, I've never really been that big a reader. I only read books by my favourite authors, or things that I've been recommended.'

Mycroft smiled. Greg was a bit like that; he didn't read _often_ , but he did on occasion. He'd noticed that Greg took a lot after his mother, both in looks and behaviour. They were both smart, loyal, loving and cheeky. Greg definitely got his smart-arse behaviour from his mother.

It made Mycroft wonder just how different Gregory would be if he'd grown up around his father.

'We're having lunch with my mother tomorrow,' Mycroft blurted suddenly, making Maggie turn away from the TV to look at him. 'Gregory and myself,' he added.

Maggie swallowed her mouthful and said, 'Oh?' The teenager nodded. 'Huh,' Maggie hummed. 'Interesting. Who's idea was that?'

'Mother's,' Mycroft replied. 'She wants to get to know Gregory.'

'That's understandable,' Maggie said. 'I'm surprised she didn't ask sooner.'

'I suppose she was still adjusting to me being gay, and... well, being the way that I am,' Mycroft said and gestured at his tight black jeans and _Fall Out Boy_ t-shirt. 'Plus everything that... that happened with Siger.'

Maggie nodded and turned back to the TV. 'Are you worried that Meghan won't like Greg?' she asked.

Mycroft hesitated, his fingers picking at the slice of vegetarian pizza still sitting on his plate. 'A bit,' he said honestly. 'Not that it really matters,' he added. 'If my mother doesn't like Gregory, it isn't going to change anything.'

'It'll just make talking about Greg a bit harder,' Maggie said knowingly.

'Exactly,' Mycroft said. 'I won't be able to talk about him when we get together, and... Gregory's the most important person in my life, besides Sherlock. I want her to like him.'

'She will,' Maggie said. 'I know that she didn't at first, but things are different now, and Greg was always trying to annoy her. He'll try now that her liking him matters. That boy can be extremely charming when he tries.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'Believe me, I know.'

'Of course you do,' Maggie snickered and winked at him.

Mycroft felt a flush crawl up his face and busied himself with his pizza. He loved Maggie, truly he did; he would never feel this comfortable with his own mother. But Greg was right; she made _way_ too many jokes about their sex life.

The two turned away from the TV when Greg stumbled down the hallway, blinking owlishly at them. He'd thrown on tracksuit bottoms and a baggy jumper that looked like Mycroft's, and scratched a hand through his hair before disappearing into the kitchen.

'Ooh, pizza!' Greg half-cheered and walked into the sitting room, pizza in one hand, garlic bread and Coke in the other. He dropped down on the sofa on Mycroft's other side, despite the tight fit, and pecked Mycroft on the lips before flipping the pizza box open. He groaned as he shoved half a slice into his mouth. _'_ Is dis _Word of da Wings_?' he mumbled through his mouthful.

Mycroft stared at him. 'Gregory, you were feeling violently ill a few hours ago, how can you eat greasy food so soon?'

Greg just stared at him.

'He never learns,' Maggie shook her head. 'You'd better get used to it.'

Mycroft sighed and told Greg, 'I'm not cleaning up after you.'

Greg just shoved the rest of his slice into his mouth, grinning widely as he chewed.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'I should've given you another blow job,' Greg muttered, 'that always calms me down.'

'Would you _please_ stop saying that?' Mycroft hissed. They were sitting in the café where they were meeting Meghan Holmes, who had called Mycroft to say she was running a bit late. The couple could vaguely see Brighton Pier and the beach through the window, but there were too many people walking around to get a proper glimpse, despite the cool weather. It hadn't snowed much in the past two days but a fine layer of slush still lined most of the roads and footpaths, and Greg and Mycroft had both bundled up when they'd left the house.

Before Greg could, yet again, say something that was just a bit too dirty for public, the café door opened and Meghan stepped in. She was wearing a blue suit- _old people clothes_ , Greg thought- and an expensive looking coat and scarf. She briefly scanned the café before spotting her son and Greg, and smiled at them as she walked over.

'Good afternoon, boys.'

'Hello, Mrs Holmes,' Greg responded, while Mycroft stood to hug and kiss his mother's cheek, calling her _Mummy_ the entire time.

'I'm sorry I was late, I was meeting with my solicitors,' Meghan said as she took her seat.

Mycroft's eyebrows furrowed and he asked, 'Is everything alright?' as he sat back beside Greg.

Meghan waved a hand. 'Yes, dear, everything's fine; don't you worry about it. Besides, we're here to talk about you two, not me.' She smiled brightly at them, either not noticing how the teenagers squirmed slightly, or just not caring.

'Perhaps we should order some drinks first?' Mycroft suggested. 'We can eat in a little bit.'

'I'll get them,' Greg leapt to his feet. The Holmeses both looked at him, Meghan smiling, Mycroft scowling at his boyfriend's attempt to flee. 'Mycroft, Mrs Holmes, what can I get you?'

'I'll have a cup of Earl Grey tea, my dear boy,' Meghan said. 'One sugar, please.'

Greg nodded and look at Mycroft.

'Coffee; black, two sugars,' Mycroft responded.

Greg rolled his eyes. 'I know how you take your coffee, Myc.'

Mycroft resisted the urge to poke his tongue out and watched as his boyfriend walked across the café and joined the queue. When he finally turned back around, Meghan was smiling softly at him, her eyes bright.

'Mummy?' he questioned.

'You love him,' Meghan stated, making Mycroft blush faintly. 'I can tell by the way you look at him.'

'Yes, well,' the red-head cleared his throat, 'I _do_ love Gregory; very much so.'

'Is he your first serious boyfriend?' Meghan questioned.

'Yes, I've never...' Mycroft trailed off and sighed. He and his mother had only briefly discussed Mycroft's past. He'd told her that he was thirteen when he realised he was gay, and that he'd done some stupid things. He hadn't mentioned all the alcohol and drugs, or the guys he'd slept with. He'd only mentioned the cocaine just before Christmas. He'd alluded to his sleeping habits, but had never out-right told his mother.

'I've never... had a boyfriend, no,' Mycroft finally continued, coughing to clear his throat. He kept his eyes on the table, and the occupants of the café, rather than his mother. 'I never found anyone who I'd want to spend more than... than one night with.'

Meghan watched him carefully, and Mycroft glanced up. He watched as realisation dawned across her face and she looked down as she said, 'Oh.' Mycroft chewed on his lip, staying silent. 'I take it Gregory was the same?' Meghan asked hesitantly. 'He has a reputation.'

'Yes, we had that in common,' Mycroft said softly. 'But Gregory, he's... different,' Mycroft admitted. 'I don't know what it is about him, but I love him.'

'I'm glad, My,' Meghan said. She reached out and wrapped Mycroft's hands in her own, squeezing his fingers briefly. 'I'm glad that you had him when your father-'

Mycroft jolted in his seat and Meghan withdrew her hands, pursing her lips.

'Gregory's been a lot of help,' Mycroft mumbled. 'As has his mother.'

Meghan hesitated only briefly before asking, 'Mycroft, how long has it been since you were... an addict?' Her voice broke on the last word and Mycroft looked away. They hadn't discussed... _that_ part of Mycroft's addiction; they'd only briefly talked about it over one of their lunches.

Mycroft continued to stare at the table as he felt shame spread through his body. He hated that this would always be hanging over his head. When people found out, they'd always _know_ that Mycroft had been dependant on drugs; that he hadn't been able to stop himself.

'Two years,' he answered, voice slightly hoarse and barely above a whisper. 'Sherlock got me clean, he... he found me, in the bathroom.' He swallowed thickly and looked up at Meghan, who was staring at him with concern in her eyes. 'I haven't even thought about going back, not since then.'

'Not even when your... when Siger told you to leave?' Meghan questioned.

Mycroft shook his head immediately. 'I had Gregory,' was his answer, and it was as simple as that; he had Gregory, and other people. He had Sherlock and Maggie and all of his friends. He didn't _need_ cocaine, not anymore.

'Good,' Meghan said, 'that's good, My. I'm only sorry that I didn't realise. I should have known.'

'You couldn't have known,' Mycroft told her. 'Not even Sherlock knew for sure, not until he found evidence.'

'I'm your mother, My,' Meghan stated. 'A mother should know these things about her child; she should _protect them_.'

Mycroft had nothing to say to that. Because it was true; Meghan _should_ have been there for him. Mycroft should have been able to go to her when he'd first realised he was gay, when he'd been having trouble at school and hanging out with the wrong people. He shouldn't have had to hide from everyone and try to deal with everything himself.

But it was in the past; and Mycroft knew that you couldn't change the past, no matter how much you wanted to. His mother was here, now, trying to make amends and build a relationship with him. That was all that mattered.

'It doesn't matter now,' he told her.

'It'll always matter to me, love,' Meghan said.

Their conversation stopped when Greg came back, easily carrying three cardboard cups. He set them down and hesitated when he noticed the looks on their faces, and the uncomfortable atmosphere around the corer.

'Er...'

'Sit down, Gregory,' Meghan smiled at him. 'My and I were just talking.'

''Kay...' the brunette murmured and slid back onto his seat. He reached over and squeezed Mycroft's fingers before grabbing his cup. The gesture wasn't lost on Meghan, and she hid a smile behind her own cup when she noticed that Mycroft relaxed at the touch.

'How's school going?' Meghan asked after about a minute or two of silence. Greg looked nervously at Mycroft, who's lips twitched in a smile. The red-head turned to his mother and began talking about his classes and school work. Meghan was surprised that Mycroft had dropped a few classes, his teachers claiming that he'd surpassed them in knowledge. 'I always knew that you were smart,' Meghan commented, 'but I wasn't aware that they were allowed to do that.'

'I don't think they are,' Mycroft admitted. 'But it's either let me sit in class doing other work, or let me sit in the library and do the same. Mr Rourke hasn't said anything to me about it, so...' He trailed off, shrugging.

Meghan nodded and turned her sights on Greg, who slouched slightly in his seat. 'And what about you, Gregory?'

'Uh... how are my studies going?' he hedged. Meghan nodded. 'They're, uh... fine, I suppose,' he said. 'My marks have improved since I started dating Mycroft,' he admitted. It was true; Mycroft had taught him how to complete his homework quickly and efficiently, and had tutored him in almost all his subjects. The only thing he had no clue about was PE.

'Really?' Meghan asked, glancing at her son.

Greg nodded. 'Yeah. Mycroft's really smart and he's been helping me.'

'You don't _need_ help,' Mycroft said. 'You're clever, as I've told you before. All you have to do is pay attention in class and apply yourself.'

Which Greg really only did 'cause Mycroft promised him sexy times. It happened a lot in English Lit; Greg would be annoying Mycroft, poking him or trying to write notes, and Mycroft would promise a blow job or other sexual favours if Greg shut up and paid attention. It was the best incentive Greg had ever had.

Meghan smiled at them both before looking at the menu. 'I think it's about time to order something, don't you? I'm famished.'

The two teenagers nodded and glanced over the other menu. Mycroft offered to go order their food; a chicken salad sandwich for his mother, steak sandwichs for him and Greg, and a bowl of chips to share.

Greg had offered to get the food, but Mycroft had pinched him and slid from his seat before Greg could. So now the brunette was left sitting there, alone, with Mycroft's _mother_. He had no idea what to say.

Apparently, Meghan did; 'What are your intentions towards my son?' she asked.

Greg blinked. Had Meghan really just said that? 'Uh...'

Nobody had ever asked Greg his _intentions_ before. Then again, he'd never actually _dated_ a guy before. Everybody- from Dimmock to Maggie- had known that Greg loved Mycroft, even before Greg himself had realised it, so they hadn't been shocked in the least when they'd found out that Greg and Mycroft were dating. Maybe all parents wanted to know the _intentions_ of the person their kid was dating.

'I, uh... my intentions?' Greg tried again, scratching a hand through his hair. Meghan just nodded. 'Well, um... I love Mycroft. Like, a lot. He's unlike anyone I've ever met before.'

Meghan smiled softly, but still remained silent.

'I wanna be with him forever,' Greg continued. 'I mean, I know that might not happen; we're only seventeen. But I can't see myself being with anyone but Mycroft, not even when I'm forty. I'll do everything in my power to make sure he's happy.'

'And what about university?' Meghan asked, finally speaking. 'I know that my son wants to attend Oxford.'

'Yeah, I know,' Greg nodded. 'I've been looking into universities and colleges in the Oxfordshire area. If Mycroft goes to Oxford I'll go with him. If that's what he wants.'

'You plan to attend university?'

Greg nodded again. 'I'll admit that that wasn't always my plan,' he said, 'but Mycroft, he... he makes me believe in myself, you know? Mum's always said that I'm smarter than I make out, and that I should apply myself. But Mycroft... I dunno, it's different.' He shrugged slightly. 'I wanna try my hardest, 'cause Mycroft believes in me. And when I told him that I was thinking of being a cop, he said that I should do it, and he'd support me.'

Meghan hummed softly. 'You want to be a police officer?'

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'It's really the only career I've ever considered. I'd like to help people. And going to university will only help, right?'

'Of course,' Meghan nodded. 'Thank you for sharing all of that with me, Gregory. I feel better knowing that my son has someone like you with him.' Greg blushed slightly, but a small smile made his lips twitch. 'I know that I haven't always been kind to you,' Meghan said, making the teenager look at her, 'and I apologise for that. Sometimes I let silly things cloud my judgement.'

'Yeah,' Greg murmured. He'd done the same thing; he'd judged Mycroft based on his clothes and his intelligence without getting to know the person he really was. Despite Mycroft forgiving him, Greg never would; he'd treated Mycroft like dirt for the better part of two years. 'It's alright,' he finally added, turning a smile on the woman. 'We all make mistakes.'

'That we do,' Meghan said. 'I'm just glad that you and my son are happy together.'

'Me too,' Greg smiled.

Mycroft finally returned from ordering, bringing an end to Meghan and Greg's conversation.

'Thank you, dear,' Meghan smiled at her son. Mycroft nodded and retook his seat. 'Your boyfriend is a fine young gentleman, Mycroft,' she added, making Greg blush and Mycroft raise an eyebrow.

'I know,' Mycroft said, glancing at Greg.

'I hope you enjoy many years together,' Meghan added, smiling at them both.

'Thank you,' was all Mycroft could say, while Greg busied himself with a sugar packet. 'I love him,' Mycroft added, and Meghan chuckled.

'I don't doubt that, My,' his mother said. 'I'm just glad that you're happy.'

They fell into silence; Meghan stirring her tea, Greg fiddling with his sugar, and Mycroft glancing between them.

Finally Meghan cleared her throat and asked, 'When do you suppose that Sherlock will tell me that he's dating John?'

Greg snorted into his coffee and Mycroft chuckled. Meghan just smiled at them over her cup.

Mycroft smiled at her before turning to Greg. 'I am.'

Greg smiled back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** I've never set foot outside of New South Wales (Canberra doesn't count), so I know little about England, and what I know about Brighton comes from the internet. I try to keep it as vague as possible when I talk about places in Brighton so that I don't get too much wrong.
> 
> Also, I couldn't help but make The Hobbit the movie they saw. I haven't seen it myself because I wanted to read the book first (I just finished it, and now I want to read The Lord of the Rings, 'cause The Hobbit was awesome). Anywho, yeah... I hope you enjoyed the chapter :) And sorry about the long wait, but it was really hard to write for some reason, and it's just a bunch of random... stuff. Hopefully the next chapter's easier :)
> 
> Cheers,
> 
> {Dreamer}


	95. The Ending Is Just The Beginning Repeating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** The Ending Is Just The Beginning Repeating by The Living End
> 
> **Author's Note:** Again, sorry for how long it's taking me to update! The last few chapters are just getting harder and harder to write for some reason. Maybe 'cause I don't want the story to end, it's too fun to write!
> 
> Hope you enjoy,
> 
> {Dreamer}

The rest of the week passed fairly quickly. Greg didn't do much other than work and hang out with his mum and Mycroft. He hung out with Dimmock and Joe when Mycroft wanted to spend some time with his brother, and Greg made plans to spend New Years at Dimmock's. Dimmock usually had a party to count down to the new year, and Greg didn't see why he shouldn't go this year... as long as Mycroft wanted to go.

On New Years Eve, Greg walked into the house loaded down with shopping bags to find his mother sitting on the sofa with Meghan Holmes. He froze in the doorway, staring at the two women, and didn't move until Mycroft walked into him.

'Gregory, what are you doing?' the auburn-haired teen demanded.

'Your mum's here,' Greg hissed.

Mycroft frowned and glanced around his boyfriend. When he spotted his mother, he said, 'Oh...'

'Yeah, _oh_ ,' Greg muttered and stepped further into the house. Maggie and Meghan finally looked up from the leather-bound book they were looking at, and Greg had the sneaking suspicion that it was a photo album. 'Hey, Mum,' Greg said after clearing his throat, 'er... what's happening?'

'Hey, boys,' Maggie smiled. 'Meghan brought Sherlock and John over.'

'I have to go to a party for the new year,' Meghan explained, 'and Sherlock didn't want to go, so I thought he could spend the night with Mycroft.'

'Oh,' Mycroft hummed. 'Well, we were going to Michael Dimmock's tonight, but...' he glanced at Greg, who sighed.

'I'll see if Sherlock wants to come with us,' Greg said and went into the kitchen. He'd have to call Dimmock, but he didn't think an extra person would bother the other teenager. Greg dumped his bags and went down the hallway to his and Mycroft's bedroom.

'Oh, _gross_!' Greg exclaimed when he spotted Sherlock and John _snogging on his bed_!

John immediately scrambled up, while Sherlock groaned and let his head fall back.

'I don't need you two snogging on my bed, 'kay?' Greg complained.

'Why not? It's not like you and Mycroft don't have sex in it,' Sherlock argued.

'Sherlock!' John hissed. The genius scowled at him. 'Sorry, Greg.'

'No worries,' Greg shrugged, 'you can do it, I just don't need to see it.'

'One day I'll be taller than you,' Sherlock stated.

Greg smirked at him. 'And what?'

'And I'll _make you_ listen to me,' Sherlock said, glaring at him.

'Oh yeah?' Greg snickered. 'You'll still be a fucking stick. I'll just toss you over my shoulder, _Lockie_.'

'I hate you,' Sherlock sniffed, and Greg just shrugged.

'Whatever, Mini Me,' Greg said and left the room. Screw it, he'd ask about Dimmock's _after_ he'd bleached the memory of Sherlock and John _snogging_ from his brain.

Mycroft was still in the kitchen, putting away the food they'd brought, and Greg sidled up beside him.

'Are you hiding?' he asked.

'No,' Mycroft scowled, which just made Greg grin. 'Maybe,' the taller boy corrected. 'They're looking at _baby pictures_ , Gregory.'

'I knew it,' Greg muttered. 'What is it with mums taking hundreds of baby photos and showing them to everyone?'

'My mother's never done it before,' Mycroft told his partner. 'So this is _your_ mother's fault.'

'Is not.'

'Is too!'

'You're being a child,' Greg grumbled.

'You started it,' Mycroft retorted.

'I did not!' Greg snapped. Mycroft just poked his tongue out and put the butter away before leaving. Greg scowled and followed him into the living room. 'Mum!' he groaned when he saw the familiar photo album set between her and Meghan.

'You were such an adorable child, Gregory,' Meghan said, smiling at him.

'Why are you naked in half of these pictures?' Mycroft inquired, leaning over the back of the sofa to look down at the book.

Greg huffed and folded his arms. 'It's not my fault Mum took a heap of photos.'

'And it's not _my_ fault that you tore off all your clothes every time I gave you a bath,' Maggie said.

'I was three,' Greg tried to defend himself, but Maggie just smirked at him.

'You did it right up until you were seven, dear,' she grinned.

Sherlock and John had appeared in the hallway entrance and both snickered as they look at Greg.

'Shut up,' Greg pouted.

'Sherlock did the same thing when he was a baby,' Meghan said, making Sherlock's mouth snap shut and his eyes narrow. Greg smirked at him. 'As soon as he started walking he'd run off after bath time.'

'I remember that,' Mycroft said, smiling slightly. 'I had to chase you around the house and you'd hide under my bed.'

'Shut up, Mycroft!' Sherlock snapped.

'Aww, little naked Lockie,' Greg laughed. 'I bet you were adorable.'

'I was not!' Sherlock growled, glaring at him. Suddenly he grinned and looked at his brother. 'If I remember the stories I've heard correctly, _Mycroft_ was the adorable child.' Mycroft scowled. 'Everybody thought he was a girl.'

'That's true,' Meghan nodded. 'He was a chubby little baby and had curly red hair. Everybody thought he was a girl before I corrected them.'

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his face, while Greg, Sherlock and John all snickered into their hands.

'I bet you were adorable, Mycroft,' Maggie smiled at the genius.

Mycroft gave her a mumbled, 'Thank you,' and flopped onto one of the armchairs.

'I bet you were the kid who ate worms,' Greg said suddenly, his eyes on Sherlock.

'I was not,' Sherlock scowled.

'No, but he collected them, and still does,' Mycroft said from across the room. 'He caught five bees, once, and kept them in the house before anybody found out. Mrs Lander found the jar in his wardrobe.'

'And she let them out!' Sherlock exploded. 'Weeks of study, useless!'

'That was when we discovered that Mycroft is allergic to bees,' Meghan hummed.

Greg turned to his boyfriend. 'You're allergic to bees?'

Mycroft nodded, his head resting against one hand. 'I was stung by two of them and my face swelled up. Mrs Lander had to call an ambulance because my throat closed.'

'You almost killed your brother?' John asked, turning to his best friend/boyfriend.

Sherlock scowled and folded his arms. 'I didn't mean to,' he mumbled.

'He's helped me more often than hurt me,' Mycroft said, smiling softly at his brother. Greg glanced between them before looking away. Mycroft was probably talking about Sherlock getting him clean.

'Well, I should get going,' Meghan spoke suddenly, flipping the photo album she was holding shut. 'I have another meeting with my solicitor before I have to get ready for the party.'

Mycroft frowned as he looked up at his mother, remembering her mentioning her lawyers at their lunch the other day. 'Is everything okay?' he asked.

'Everything's fine, dear,' Meghan smiled at him. 'If something's wrong, I'll tell you.'

Mycroft just nodded and stood to kiss his mother goodbye. Meghan handed the photo album to him and Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

'I thought you might like to have some photos of your childhood,' Meghan said, slipping into her coat. 'I made copies of all the pictures I have.'

'Thank you, Mummy,' Mycroft replied.

Meghan hugged Sherlock and smiled brightly at John before Maggie saw her out. When she came back she clapped her hands together. 'So, are you boys eating before you go?'

'Go where?' Sherlock asked with a frown.

'Dimmock's,' Greg sighed, remembering that he still had to deal with that. 'Me and Mycroft are going to Dimmock's tonight but Mum's staying here. So you two can either come to Dimmock's or hang out here; it's up to you.'

'Excellent,' Sherlock grinned and tugged John towards the kitchen. 'I've always wanted to observe a bunch of teenagers getting drunk.'

'Sherlock, we have to ask Dimmock before you come over,' Mycroft told his brother, following him into the kitchen.

'Why can't John and I just come?' Sherlock demanded.

'Because it's rude,' Mycroft replied.

Sherlock scowled, but looked at Greg, who was hovering in the doorway. 'Well, what are you waiting for? Call him!'

'Er... right, okay,' Greg said and pulled his mobile out of his pocket. He flicked through his phonebook before tapping Dimmock's name and pressing the phone to his ear.

' _What's up?_ '

'Hey, Dimmo,' Greg said and took a seat at the table. 'I've got a question for you.'

' _Shoot_ ,' Dimmock replied.

'Me and Mycroft are still coming over tonight, right?' Greg said.

' _Yeah..._ ' the other boy hummed.

'Well, do you reckon Sherlock and John could come, too?'

There was a pause before Dimmock asked, ' _You mean Mycroft's brother and his brother's boyfriend?_ '

'Yeah,' Greg nodded.

' _Uh... yeah, I guess that'd be okay,_ ' Dimmock replied. ' _As long as you take full responsibility for Little Holmes, then that's fine._ '

' _Mycroft_ can take full responsibility,' Greg said and grinned at his boyfriend, who rolled his eyes; Mycroft could guess what Dimmock was saying.

' _Yeah, it's cool,_ ' Dimmock said before clearing his throat. ' _Listen, there's something I've gotta tell you about tonight..._ '

Greg frowned. 'What?'

' _Well, uh you know my grandma?_ '

'Not personally, no,' Greg said.

' _You've met her before,_ ' Dimmock continued, ' _well, she and my dad were_ supposed _to go to my aunt's for New Year, but something came up, so now they're at my place tonight._ '

'What?' Greg groaned. 'Dimmo!'

' _I know, I'm sorry,_ ' Dimmock apologised. ' _But you can still come over!_ '

'And not drink,' Greg frowned.

' _Well, um... you can sneak drinks?_ ' Greg sighed. ' _Come on, Greg_ ,' Dimmock whined. ' _I don't wanna be stuck here with my dad_ and _my grandma._ '

'Molly will be there, won't she?' Greg said.

' _Well, yeah, but she's sweet and loves me; she has to come_.' Greg groaned. ' _Lily will be there, too, and Alex. You guys can all sit outside. My nan probably won't let you on the furniture anyway_.'

'Oh, so your dad gets his homophobia from her, does she?' Greg asked. Mycroft frowned at him, and even Sherlock looked annoyed by that sentence.

' _Um... I guess so, yeah,_ ' Dimmock said after a few seconds of silence. ' _So, you know, don't stick your tongue down Mycroft's throat in front of her_.'

'I won't be doing that with Sherlock and John there,' Greg said, glancing up at the couple in question. 'Sherlock makes funny faces, though, so it might be worth it.'

Sherlock flipped him off, but apologised when Maggie raised an eyebrow at him. Mycroft and John both snickered while Greg grinned; his mum could make anyone apologise for their behaviour.

' _Greg?_ '

'Fine,' Greg grunted. 'But you owe me a bottle of good alcohol.'

' _Yes, yes, fine._ '

'And I get to play your PSP the next, like, ten times I come over,' Greg added.

' _Yes, you can play Liberty City_ ,' Dimmock muttered, and Greg just knew that his best friend was rolling his eyes. ' _You know I love you, Greggie_.'

Greg chuckled and the two teenagers said their goodbyes before Greg hung up. 'Well there's our night ruined.'

'Mr Dimmock isn't that bad,' Maggie said, and Greg raised his eyebrows at her. 'Okay, he's horrible,' she amended, 'but Dimmock's your friend.'

'That's the only reason I'm going,' Greg said.

'That and bribery,' Mycroft said, making Greg wink.

'Just no making out in front of his super-homophobic grandmother,' Greg told the group.

'Why should I censor myself for another person's skewed views?' Sherlock demanded. 'If I want to kiss John at midnight, I will!'

John smiled at his boyfriend, while Greg said, ''Cause old people have bony hands and I'm pretty sure they're magic. They know things.'

'You're an idiot,' Mycroft stated.

'But you love me anyway,' Greg grinned.

'Oh, God, they've exchanged “I loves you”s,' Sherlock groaned. 'They'll be worse, John!'

'Shut up, it's sweet,' John said. Sherlock pulled out the puppy-dog eyes but John ignored him.

'Look, Sherlock, you can kiss John all you want,' Greg told the younger boy, 'but it's Dimmock's house, not yours or mine. Just... do it away from his grandmother, okay? She's, like, eighty; it's not like she can stalk you for the entire night. If we stay in the backyard, we'll have an okay time.'

'Whatever,' Sherlock muttered. 'I'll just keep myself amused by going through their things.'

John slapped him over the back of the head, but Greg laughed at the thought of Sherlock deducing Mr Dimmock's every habit. That'd be a laugh.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg had planned on getting to Dimmock's at six or seven, but he, Mycroft, Sherlock and John didn't pull up until nine. Greg didn't want to spend too much time around Mr Dimmock and his mother, and the others didn't seem inclined to, either. Mycroft was limiting himself to two beers; he and Greg had bought a six-pack, so Greg had decided to only drink the other four. That way he'd get only slightly tipsy, but not drunk. He wasn't sure he could handle Sherlock Holmes (and bigoted fathers/grandmothers) while drunk.

Molly, Lily and Alex were already there, all outside, and Mr Dimmock scowled when he saw Greg and Mycroft, but didn't say anything as he shouted for Dimmock. Mrs Dimmock- the grandma- was on the sofa knitting, and she turned her nose up at Greg and Mycroft's clothes.

'Look at what they're wearing, Ryan,' she commented as Dimmock led the group through the house. 'You should tell Michael to associate with upstanding people.'

Sherlock whirled around- to no doubt snap something scathing at her- but Mycroft simply picked his brother up, tossed him over his shoulder, and carried him outside.

'My, let me down!' Sherlock shrieked, drawing the attention of the three girls sitting on a number of blankets on the cold grass.

'Met Mrs Homophobe, did he?' Lily asked.

'Sorry about her,' Dimmock apologised as they reached the girls.

'Not a problem,' Mycroft said and dumped his brother on the blanket. Sherlock's face was pink, and he glared up at Mycroft as he ran his fingers through his hair. John quickly sat down and pecked his boyfriend on the cheek. That seemed to placate the blue-eyed boy, who draped himself over John's side.

'Evening, ladies,' Greg grinned as he pulled two beers from the six-pack he was carrying. Dimmock took the remaining four and walked around the house, no doubt to hide them. 'Are we enjoying ourselves?'

'We would be if Michael's family weren't here,' Molly sighed.

'She had a go at Al, just 'cause she's Australian,' Lily scowled. 'The only person allowed to make fun of my Wombat is _me_.'

'How'd Dimmock turn out alright with family like _that_?' Greg wondered as he sat on the blanket between Mycroft and Alex.

'Just “alright”, am I?' Dimmock laughed, returning with a Jim Beam. 'I'm pretty fucking perfect, if I do say so myself.'

'You're an idiot,' Greg rolled his eyes.

'You're a bigger one,' Dimmock quipped.

'John, I can already feel myself losing brain cells!' Sherlock announced, actually sounding worried.

'Busy yourself with deducing them, then,' John shrugged. 'Politely!' he added when Sherlock opened his mouth.

Sherlock pouted.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Let's play Guess!' Lily suddenly announced, and earned frowns from everyone gathered.

'Guess?' Greg echoed. 'What's that?'

'Guess Who You Are, or Guess the Celebrity,' Alex murmured over her beer. 'You know; someone writes down a name, sticks it to your head, and you get a certain amount of questions to guess who you are.'

' _Oh_ ,' Greg hums. 'Yeah, I'm up for that.'

'Why don't we play Operation?' Sherlock demanded.

The group stared at him. 'Uh... 'cause I don't have Operation?' Dimmock said.

'And normal people don't play it like us, brother,' Mycroft added. 'They actually _look_ at the board and don't make deductions or have insightful conversations.'

Sherlock frowned. 'But seeing the board takes all of the fun out of it.'

Mycroft just chuckled and reached over to ruffle Sherlock's curly hair, making Sherlock shuffle out of his reach and curse. He practically sat himself on John's lap, and John blushed but put up with the coos coming from Molly, Lily, and even Greg.

Dimmock disappeared into the house to get paper, tape and a pen, while Alex darted around the side of the house to get fresh drinks from the cooler. She handed Greg and Mycroft beers, Molly whatever bright-coloured drink she was having, and Lily a bottle of lemonade. Sherlock and John got soft drink, too, despite Sherlock's instance that he was old enough to drink (John flicked him in the ear) and there was a bottle of bourbon waiting for Dimmock when he returned.

'Okay, so how about we all write a name and stick it to the person opposite us?' Dimmock suggested.

He received various nods and everyone turned away as they wrote a name, the pen being passed around. Dimmock used the tape to stick a torn off piece of paper to everyone's head, and Molly did it to him. When everyone had sat back down there were various alcohol-fuelled giggles. Mycroft had _Castiel_ stuck to his head, while Sherlock had _Dean Winchester_. John was _Bilbo Baggins_ , Molly _the Doctor_ , and Dimmock _Billie Joe Armstrong._ Finally, Lily was _Jaret Reddick_ and Alex _Albert Einstein_. The only name Greg didn't know was the one that he was sporting.

'Sherlock,' Mycroft tisked, knowing full well who'd labelled the Australian.

'There were no rules as to who I could and couldn't choose,' Sherlock sniffed.

'Who's Lily supposed to be?' Greg asked.

Mycroft leaned over and whispered, 'He's the lead singer of _Bowling For Soup_.'

Greg frowned. 'What?'

'Lily's favourite band,' Mycroft muttered.

'Oh,' Greg hummed. 'Okay, who's going first?'

'Mycroft can,' Molly decided and sipped her drink while everybody looked Mycroft's way.

Mycroft frowned for maybe a second before asking, 'Am I very, _very_ old?'

'Yes,' Greg, Dimmock, Lily _and_ Alex all said.

'Castiel, Angel of the Lord, from Supernatural,' Mycroft guessed.

More than one mouth dropped open, and Lily huffed and almost threw her bottle at him. 'How the hell did you guess that?'

'I know everybody's writing,' Mycroft shrugged, 'and I didn't recognise yours on anybody's forehead, ergo _you_ wrote what's currently on _my_ head. Earlier tonight you were talking to Alexandria about Supernatural, and Castiel in particular; therefore I can guess that Castiel is your favourite character. It wasn't a hard leap to make; the show, and the character, were in your head already, so when pressed to choose somebody's name to write, you went with Castiel's. Also, I know from Gregory's excessive re-watching of the show that Castiel is millennia old, and you answered _yes_ when I asked if I was very, _very_ old.'

He finished by sipping his beer, and everybody stared at him, eyes wide, while Sherlock was fiddling with the paper on his head.

'Damn it,' Lily groaned. 'Does this mean the game's over?'

'No, let's keep going 'til everyone guesses,' Dimmock decided.

'You ruin everything, Mycroft,' the younger Holmes muttered, then yelped when John pinched his arse. ' _John_!' the curly-haired teen hissed, his cheeks now pink. John just grinned at him.

'Okay, my turn!' Greg announced and cleared his throat. 'Am I very, _very_ old?'

Mycroft rolled his eyes, while Dimmock said, 'I wrote it and I have no idea.'

'You're old in human years, I suppose,' Alex piped in, 'but in... _your_ years, no, not really.'

Greg blinked. 'What the hell is that supposed to mean?'

'It means that Dimmock should read the book before assigning a character,' Alex declared and swigged back some of her beer. 'You're one-hundred and ninety-five, let's put it at that.'

'Huh,' Greg frowned, 'that _is_ old.'

'But not in Dwarvish years,' Alex muttered, too low for Greg to hear.

'Me next!' Sherlock announced. He frowned and huffed and looked all around, earning a smirk from his brother. 'Am I... popular?' Sherlock settled on saying.

'With some people,' Molly said.

'But you're hated by a vast majority of the human world,' Lily added.

Sherlock's frown deepened, and John giggled. 'You'll never get it, love,' he said, earning an “aww” from Lily and Molly. 'You don't know popular culture _at all_.'

'That's not fair!' Sherlock huffed and crossed his arms to pout.

'John, your turn,' Mycroft said, knowing that his brother would throw a tantrum before the night was out.

'Okay, uh...' John hummed and muttered under his breath before going with, 'Am I... really old?'

Greg and Lily giggled, while Alex said, 'That seems to be a popular question tonight. Again, in human years you're... well, not _that old_ , but well into middle-age. In... other years, not so much, really.'

'Now that's just confusing,' John pouted.

'And _you_ are just adorable,' Lily declared.

John blushed, but they moved onto Molly; 'Am I really, really old?' she asked with a grin, making Lily and Greg both throw bottle caps at her.

' _Very old_ ,' Alex announced.

'Not very helpful,' Molly said.

'Am I a man?' Dimmock asked, finally breaking the question chain.

'Yup,' Greg grinned.

'God, I'm some guy you wanna shag, aren't I?' Dimmock complained.

'Oh, yes,' Mycroft chuckled.

'But you're the only one I want,' Greg quipped and leaned over to kiss his boyfriend.

'Stop that!' Sherlock snapped, and the two pulled away from each other with grins.

'Am I a guy?' Lily asked, receiving a nod from Alex, Molly and Mycroft. 'Wait, I get another question, don't I? 'Cause I got that one right?'

'Hang on, that means _I_ get another question!' Dimmock said.

'Fine fine; ask away,' Lily flapped a hand at her sister's boyfriend.

'Am I in a band?' Dimmock asked.

'Yes,' Greg, Mycroft and Lily all chirped.

'Am I in a _famous_ band?'

'Yes.'

'Do I wear a lot of make-up?' Dimmock asked.

'Fuck you,' Greg groaned even as Mycroft said, 'Yes.'

'Do I play guitar and sing?' Dimmock grinned.

'I hate you,' Greg muttered.

'Yes,' Mycroft repeated.

'Billie Joe Armstrong,' Dimmock announced

Greg _did_ throw his empty bottle at Dimmock, but the older boy just laughed and ducked.

'Damn it, I bet I would have come second if Michael hadn't got another question!' Lily huffed. 'My turn, my turn!

'Go ahead, Sunshine,' Dimmock chuckled and sipped his bourbon.

'Am _I_ in a band?' the girl went with, and Mycroft nodded while Alex said, 'Yep.'

'Ooh, goodie!' Lily clapped her hands together. 'Okay, okay... uh...'

'Wait, John gets another questions because _he_ asked if he was old and he was right!' Sherlock interrupted.

'After me, stick-boy!' Lily snapped. 'Am I real? As in, do I exist in this world?'

'Well _duh_ ,' Greg muttered.

'Hey, your boyfriend was a fictional character!' Lily pointed at him. 'It's a valid question.'

'Just ask another,' Alex sighed.

'Am I in a band that _I_ love?'

'Yes,' Alex said.

'That doesn't help,' Lily pouted, 'I love a lot of bands. Okay, so, um... do I sing?'

'Yes,' Alex repeated.

'Am I Matt Bellamy?' Lily guessed.

'Nope,' Alex grinned while Greg shouted, 'WRONG!' Lily scowled and sipped her lemonade, waving at John to ask another question.

'Oh, me?' the small boy asked, receiving a heap of nods. 'Uh, okay, um... well, am I in _The Hobbit_?'

'What's _The Hobbit_?' Sherlock asked, while Alex nodded.

'Sherlock, we saw the movie less than a week ago,' Mycroft sighed.

' _Oh_ ,' Sherlock blinked, 'oh, I already deleted most of that day.'

'You're a little git,' Greg muttered and stood. 'I need another beer. Anyone want one?' Mycroft and Alex both nodded, so Greg crossed the lawn and went to the cooler Dimmock had stashed next to the house. He could hear Ryan Dimmock and his mother in the house talking, as well as the news, and tried to keep the noise down as he collected three bottles of beer.

When he got back, Alex, Lily and Molly had all guessed who they were. 'How'd you guess _Albert Einstein_?' Greg asked Alex.

'I read a lot,' Alex shrugged and accepted the beer.

'I haven't even had another go yet,' Greg pouted as he re-took his seat.

'This game is boring and you're someone called Thorin Oakenshield,' Sherlock announced, earning himself a heap of groans and curses. 'John, you're Bilbo Baggins, and I'm...' he paused to rip the paper from his head and squinted at the writing, 'somebody called Dean Winchester.' He balled the paper up and tossed it aside. 'It's not fun when Mycroft's already won, so I don't want to play anymore.'

'And you wonder why John's your only friend,' Mycroft sighed and tossed a beer cap at his brother.

'Shove off, Fatcroft!' Sherlock snapped.

'That nickname hasn't born any truth since I was ten, little brother.'

'You're getting chubby again,' Sherlock sniffed, running his eyes up and down Mycroft. 'Too much cake and lazing about with your boy toy.'

'Boy _friend_ ,' Greg corrected, while Sherlock just flipped him off. 'What now?' he asked the group.

'I have a few board games and a deck of cards,' Dimmock suggested. 'And my dad has a chess set.'

'Mycroft isn't allowed to play chess,' Sherlock said.

'Because he wins?' Greg grinned. Sherlock scowled at him.

'And he's not allowed to play cards,' Lily said. 'I remember what happened at our Christmas party.'

'You promised me a fun night, Dimmo,' Greg groaned and fell sideways to lean heavily against Mycroft.

'We're not doing anything that we wouldn't be doing if my dad and grandma weren't here,' Dimmock pointed out.

'Whatever,' Greg flapped a hand.

'Let's play Charades!' Lily announced.

Greg, Molly, Alex and Dimmock all groaned; Lily was _terrible_ at Charades.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


It was nearing midnight when everything went to hell. Greg and Mycroft were standing by the back door, leaning against the house, while Lily, Alex, Molly and Dimmock all played cards on the ground beside them. Sherlock and John were wandering through the backyard- Sherlock doing _something_ , and John trailing behind murmuring “fascinating” under his breath every few seconds.

Greg had said something to Mycroft- he couldn't remember, now- and Mycroft had smiled while Greg sipped his beer.

That, of course, was when old Mrs Dimmock saw them through the kitchen window.

'Ryan!' she suddenly shrieked, making all the teenagers jump and whirl around.

'What?' Mr Dimmock near-shouted when he came running into the kitchen.

'They're drinking!' Mrs Dimmock announced and pointed out the window, like Greg was committing some unforgivable sin.

Dimmock looked up at Greg from where he was playing cards and scowled.

'Oops,' was all Greg could mutter. Right, _don't_ drink in front of the adults; he'd forgotten that.

'That's it, out!' Mr Dimmock shouted, rushing out the back door. He pointed at Greg, and then at the door. 'Get out of my house! I won't have you breaking the law in front of my son!'

Greg blinked at him. What he really, _really_ wanted to say was; “Your son's had more to drink than me.” Instead his eyes found Sherlock and John, the two teenagers standing across the lawn, just staring. So he sighed and muttered, 'Fine. Party was boring anyway.'

'Excuse me?' Mr Dimmock demanded.

Greg grinned at him. 'I _said_ that the party was-'

'Yes, Gregory, thank you,' Mycroft interrupted and grabbed Greg's arm. 'We'll be leaving now, Mr Dimmock,' he added, throwing a fake smile at Dimmock's dad. 'Thank you for having us. Come along, Sherlock, John.'

' _Finally_!' Sherlock groaned and flipped the collar of his coat up. The action made John roll his eyes, but the young couple hastened across the lawn and to Greg and Mycroft.

'Until next time, Mr Dimmock, sir!' Greg saluted the older man, who started muttering under his breath and glaring as he led Greg and his group out. 'Oh, by the way!' Greg shouted at Mrs Dimmock as he left the kitchen, 'Me and the boyfriend here have _lots_ of hot gay sex!'

Mrs Dimmock's mouth gaped open, and she made a weird choking-noise that had Greg and Sherlock both snickering, and Mycroft and John shaking their heads at their partners. Mr Dimmock shouted at them to _get the hell out_ , and Greg kept talking about gay sex as his best friend's dad finally shoved them outside.

'Happy New Year!' Greg shouted at the closed door. 'How long do you reckon it'll be before I'm allowed over again?'

'Never,' Mycroft shook his head and turned, heading towards his Jag. John followed after him.

'You're not so bad, Lestrade,' Sherlock decided as they all climbed into the car.

'Yeah?' Greg asked.

'Mm,' Sherlock nodded. 'But I still hate you,' he then added.

Greg snorted. 'Love you, too, buddy.'

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'What are you lot doing home?' Maggie asked when the four teenagers entered the house. 'I wasn't expecting you until after one.'

'Mr Dimmock's mum caught me drinking,' Greg explained, 'so Dimmo's dad kicked us out. Then I _might_ have said something about awesome gay sex to his extremely homophobic grandmother.'

Maggie rolled her eyes, huffing a, ' _Gregory_ ,' under her breath. But she waved it away and then gestured at the TV. 'Hurry up, you'll miss the countdown!'

Greg flopped onto the free armchair, Sherlock and John taking the sofa, while Mycroft sat himself right on Greg's lap, making the brunette grin.

“ _Eight, seven, six, five-_ ”

'I'm sorry about Dimmock's dad,' Greg murmured to his boyfriend, 'and his grandma... his whole _family_ , really. I don't remember his mum being a bigot, though.'

'It's not your fault,' Mycroft replied, looking down at Greg.

“ _Four, three, two-_ ”

'At least we didn't miss the count down,' Greg grinned.

Mycroft chuckled.

“ _ONE- HAPPY NEW YEAR!_ ”

Before Greg could move, Mycroft had leaned down, their lips meeting for a soft, gentle kiss. Beside them John and Sherlock were doing the same- both blushing fiercely as they did- and Maggie alternated between watching the young couples, a grin on her face, and watching the fireworks on the TV.

Mr Dimmock and his mum were slowly forgotten as Mycroft's lips moved gently against Greg's own. When he finally pulled back, his lips as swollen as Greg's, he murmured, 'Happy New Year, Gregory.'

'Happy New Year, Myc,' Greg echoed.

'Any New Year's wishes or resolutions?' Mycroft asked, his breath warm against Greg's face.

Greg thought about it for maybe a second before shaking his head. 'Nah; I've got everything I could want. My life can't get any better.'

Mycroft chuckled and kissed him again.


	96. Happy Birthday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Author's Note:** I should just put in a permanent note of “sorry this took so long, I'm an evil, evil author”. But it's true, I AM sorry. Again, these last few chapters are just difficult to write for some reason. I mean, I've got it all planned; and I have since somewhere around chapter 50, so... yeah. The story will end after Greg and Mycroft graduate school and the epilogue will have them at university, if I haven't shared that already.
> 
> Anyway, happy reading :)
> 
> {Dreamer}

The only thing Sherlock liked about his birthday was the fact that he got presents. His mother had just given him money, while John had bought him something that made Sherlock hold his hand the entire day. At least, Greg was assuming they were going to hold hands all day; it was nine am and he, Mycroft, Sherlock and John were on the train heading into London, and their fingers were firmly linked together.

They'd gotten up early- _eight goddamn am_ \- to get to Brighton Station, and had hopped aboard a train heading for London Bridge Station. Sherlock apparently had a whole heap of things he wanted to look at; the usual touristy things like the Tower of London, the Thames, Tower Bridge, and the London Eye. Where he really, _really_ wanted to go was the Science Museum, and Mycroft had promised that they'd go. Greg had resigned himself to following Sherlock around as he stared at all the science-y stuff.

Greg and Mycroft were standing, while Sherlock and John had managed to find seats in the early commuter traffic. Greg was jostled from side to side by people, but just kept his arm firmly around the bar he was holding. Mycroft was holding onto _him_ , one arm around Greg's waist, the other playing with Greg's iPod. They were sharing the headphones and Mycroft kept skipping between Muse, Green Day, The Living End, and whatever other songs Greg had put on there.

Mycroft made a soft sound of amusement that Greg barely heard over the people gathered and raised the iPod, wiggling it in Greg's face. 'Jesse McCartney, _really_?' Mycroft asked.

Greg made a swipe for the iPod, but Mycroft was quicker, and hid it behind his back, almost pulling the headphone from Greg's ear. 'Shut up, I like the song,' Greg huffed.

'No, of course,' Mycroft nodded, face far too serious. 'You have a beautiful soul, Gregory, and you should know it.'

'Fucker,' Greg muttered, and then smiled weakly when a woman glared at him.

'And you tease _me_ about liking Fall Out Boy,' Mycroft snickered, but thankfully moved on. The iPod skipped between _Time Is Running Out_ , _Holiday, Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?_ and even _Dead!_ before Mycroft finally settled on _When We Die_ by Bowling For Soup. Lily had emailed him some links to the songs, and all Greg had needed was one listen through to go and buy all the songs on the iTunes store. Bowling For Soup were awesome.

'I didn't know you liked BFS,' Greg commented as he and Mycroft swayed back and forth, Mycroft humming under his breath.

'I've known of them, but I only liked _1985_ and _High School Never Ends_ ,' Mycroft admitted. 'Lily mentioned some songs and I looked them up. I didn't realise you had them.'

'Bought two albums after Christmas,' Greg said. 'Um... _The Great Burrito Extortion Case_ and _A Hangover You Don't Deserve_. I've also got a few other songs. Have you heard _My Wena_?' When Mycroft shook his head, Greg grinned and made grabby hands for his iPod. The red-head rolled his eyes but handed it over, and Greg scrolled through his songs before finding it.

'This song is ridiculous,' Mycroft commented a few seconds in, but then grinned. 'I love it.'

'Wait until you hear _No Hablo Inglés_ ,' Greg snickered.

They spent the rest of the train ride singing softly to each other, and Mycroft somehow managed to memorise the lyrics to _A Friendly Goodbye_. He sang it to Greg, only with the curse words instead of “eff you” and “s-words”, and Greg almost fell right over he was laughing that hard.

'You two are stupid,' Sherlock announced, and Greg wiped his eyes as he looked up at Sherlock. He and John were now standing, the shorter boy having difficulty staying on his feet. He ended up just wrapping his arms around Sherlock's waist, bringing a nice pink blush to Sherlock's pale cheeks. 'Shut up, Lestrade,' he huffed, but shifted into John's body.

'I didn't say anything!' Greg defended himself.

John kissed Sherlock on the cheek and murmured, 'Be nice.' Sherlock grumbled under his breath but went silent, much to Greg's delight. He still had an entire day of Sherlock's snark to get through.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Their first stop was the London Eye, which Sherlock apparently couldn't care less about if his bored expression was anything to go by. But John seemed excited, which was enough to get Sherlock to behave all the way to the bus stop, and on the bus there. He and John had taken up the back seat, while Greg and Mycroft were sitting up the front keeping an eye on them.

'Sherlock's showing off,' Mycroft muttered.

Greg looked up from where he was playing with his phone. 'What?'

Mycroft nodded at Sherlock, who was pointing at people, whispering things to John, and then moving onto another person. 'He's deducing people for John.'

'That's nice,' Greg decided to say when he saw John laugh and smile at his boyfriend. It was a bit weird, he could admit, but if Sherlock and John enjoyed it, then who was Greg to judge? 'Hey, why aren't you deducing people for me?' Greg demanded, rounding on his own Holmes.

Mycroft inclined one eyebrow. 'You didn't ask me to.'

'Well now I am,' Greg said and waved a hand. 'Go on; deduce.'

Mycroft snorted but looked around. The bus was fairly full, with about a dozen people between the front and back of the bus. 'Hmm...' he hummed and tilted his head, eyeing one woman who was staring out the window. 'She's a musician, a drummer, but she's recently taken up the guitar.'

Greg looked at the woman himself and frowned. 'How do you know that?' he asked.

'She's got headphones in, so she's listening to music,' Mycroft explained. 'I can see her reflection in the security mirror behind her,' he added, nodding to draw Greg's attention to the large mirror. 'She's alternating between tapping a rhythm against her thighs, or forming the chords with her right fingers- which also tells me that she's left handed, by the way. Her fingers aren't forming the chords correctly, telling that she's only recently taken up the guitar. But she has good rhythm, so I'm assuming that she's been playing the drums for a number of years.'

Greg hummed as he listened, taking in what he could see of the woman himself. When Mycroft finished Greg said, 'And the fact that she's wearing a _Red Hot Chilli Peppers_ shirt probably helped, right? She's also got a necklace on with a little silver music note pendant.'

Mycroft smiled and leaned over to kiss him, making Greg blink in surprise. ' _Very good_ , Detective Inspector Lestrade,' Mycroft purred.

Greg swallowed thickly. 'Okay, new rule; no sexy voice and role playing when out in public. I don't wanna be arrested for indecent exposure, alright?'

Mycroft just smiled in amusement and leaned back, blue eyes searching out a new target. 'That man over there has OCD,' he commented, and Greg smiled as Mycroft went on to explain how he knew that.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


The view from the London Eye was pretty awesome. There were about eight other people in the capsule thing with them, but that didn't stop Sherlock from rushing about trying to get the best view possible, dragging John along with him. They finally came to a halt in front of the railing and leaned over it, both peering through the glass at the ground far below.

Greg and Mycroft were in one corner, hands clasped as they looked around themselves. Greg had visited London before a handful of times, but he'd only ever seen Big Ben. So it was kind of awesome to see all of London spread out below him. He could see the Thames, the Palace of Westminster, Big Ben, and a number of other buildings, both big and small, as he looked across at the view.

'The view's cool,' Greg commented, and Mycroft smiled next to him.

'That it is,' he agreed, his sharp blue eyes taking everything in. He'd already glanced around at the people in the capsule when they'd boarded, and Greg didn't doubt that his partner knew everything about everyone within three minutes. 'Sherlock and John seem to be enjoying themselves.'

'Yeah,' Greg smiled, glancing back at the other couple. 'We should do this again for one of our birthdays.'

'Should we?' Mycroft questioned.

'Yeah,' Greg repeated, nodding. 'Or, you know, just come in one day. Maybe for a date.'

He blushed when Mycroft looked at him, dark red eyebrows going up.

'We haven't been on a date in a while,' Greg mumbled.

'I didn't know that you wanted to go on one,' Mycroft admitted.

They'd been on a few dates since their official first one, but it was mostly to the movies or the shopping centre, or even short little dates at a local fast-food restaurant when Greg finished work. They hadn't really taken an entire day to themselves since the holidays had started... well, an entire day spent out of the bedroom.

'I know a lovely restaurant in Westminster,' Mycroft spoke, breaking Greg from his thoughts. 'It's not too expensive, but not cheap, either. They serve wonderful food.'

'Okay...' Greg hummed.

'We could get the train in again and have lunch before seeing the sights,' Mycroft continued, 'and finish with dinner. We could even go to Piccadilly Circus and see a play.'

Greg grinned and squeezed Mycroft's fingers. 'I'd like that,' he said. He wasn't a big theatre person, but he'd see a show for Mycroft. He might even enjoy it, too. 'But if you drag me to a play, I'm dragging you to a one day cricket match at some point.'

Mycroft groaned but Greg tugged him closer.

'That's the deal,' he said, pressing his lips to Mycroft's cheek.

Sighing, Mycroft said, 'You're lucky I love you.' But he kissed Greg properly, so Greg counted it as a win.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Sherlock, _stop_ chasing the pigeons!' Mycroft snapped.

Greg groaned and let himself tip forward slightly as Mycroft leapt to his feet and stalked towards his brother. They'd taken a short break in Jubilee Gardens, mostly so that Mycroft and Greg could have a cigarette.

'I wasn't chasing them!' Sherlock denied.

'Yes you were, I _saw_ you.'

Sherlock scowled and crossed his arms. 'I wanted one for an experiment.'

'First of all, Sherlock, you _can't_ have a pigeon,' Mycroft stated, and Sherlock's frown darkened. 'Second, you can't take a live pigeon onto the train.'

'What about a dead one?' Sherlock asked and gestured to a pigeon that was lying off to his side, unmoving.

Mycroft sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. 'Do you have any idea how many diseases pigeons carry?' he queried.

'Yes,' Sherlock sniffed, 'and that's why I brought gloves.'

'Of course you did,' the older Holmes muttered.

John dropped onto the low concrete wall beside Greg and smiled at him as Mycroft and Sherlock continued to argue.

'Sherlock's like one of those little dogs,' Greg spoke suddenly.

John's eyebrows went up as he turned to look at the older boy. 'Dogs?' he echoed.

Greg nodded. 'Yeah, you know those little ones.... like, shih tzu's or something? They're cute, but they'll bite your finger off given the chance.'

John snorted and glanced back over at Sherlock and Mycroft, who were still arguing. 'Don't say that where Sherlock can hear you.'

'Like I wanna die,' Greg muttered.

'He won't kill you,' John said, 'just might fill your bed with pigeons.'

Greg huffed a laugh and John smiled, and the two fell into silence. The Holmes brothers were, of course, still arguing. Sherlock was now gesturing at the dead pigeon, no doubt trying to talk his brother into letting him keep it. Mycroft kept throwing his hands in the air and shaking his head.

'So, you and Sherlock seem to be doing okay,' Greg commented after a moment.

'Yeah,' John hummed.

Greg glanced at him. 'You _are_ doing okay, right?'

'Yeah,' John repeated, this time with a nod. 'It's... really nice, dating Sherlock,' he continued. 'I mean, he's still weird, and frustrates me, and half the time I wanna punch him in the face.' Greg chuckled. He'd punch Sherlock in the face if the teen wasn't so young. 'He's still weird, insane, doesn't care about other people Sherlock Holmes,' John shrugged. 'But he's _mine,_ you know? I get to calm him down when he's upset, and watch him do his experiments, and kiss him and hold his hand. It's really nice.'

'That's good,' Greg said, smiling when John looked at him. 'I'm happy for you, John.'

'R-Really?' the younger boy stuttered, and Greg frowned.

'Did you think I wouldn't be?'

'No, it's just...' John sighed and ran a hand through his short hair. 'My mum and dad look at us like it's... what's the saying? Puppy love?'

'Oh,' Greg mused.

John nodded. 'Yeah. I mean, I get that me and Sherlock are only fourteen, but I really, _really_ like him. He's been my best friend for years, and now he's more. But my parents just keep saying, “You'll understand when you're older” and “It won't last, you're young”. How do _they_ know?' he suddenly demanded, looking angry, and Greg's eyebrows climbed. 'Yeah, we're young, and yeah, we might not get married or whatever, but I can't see myself with anyone else. I mean, I almost told Sherlock I loved him the other day, and-'

John suddenly clamped his lips shut, eyes wide, and Greg laughed at the absolutely horrified look he was sporting.

'You almost told Sherlock you love him?' Greg echoed. John made an odd sound, lips still pressed together. 'That's nice, John,' Greg continued. 'If you love him, you should tell him.'

Frowning, John looked up at the older boy. 'Really?'

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'I mean, like you said, you might _not_ get married one day. Hell, you might not even make it to the end of the year. But who knows? Maybe you and Sherlock are made to be together. You never know. And you shouldn't give up on your relationship, or let other people break it, just because you _might_ break up one day.'

'So... you think me and Sherlock might make it?' John asked, sounding hopeful.

'Who knows?' Greg repeated. 'You just might. I honestly can't imagine anyone else putting up with him as long as you have.'

'Thanks,' John snorted. 'We're made for each other 'cause I can put up with him.'

'Eh, you know what I mean,' Greg said, nudging John's shoulder with his own. 'You two work well together. I reckon you'll make it.'

John smiled softly, his eyes drifting from Greg to rest on Sherlock, who was now punching Mycroft in the arm. 'Thank you,' he murmured.

'No worries.'

'For the record,' John said, still not looking away from Sherlock, 'I think you and Mycroft will make it.'

Greg smiled. 'Yeah?'

John nodded and said, 'You fit.' Greg laughed and John smiled. 'You look at each other like my grandparents look at each other,' he commented.

'Is that a good thing?' Greg asked.

'They've been married for, like, sixty years,' John said. 'So yeah, it's a good thing.'

'Awesome,' Greg grinned and pulled his cigarettes out. He lit one, John watching, and Greg made sure to blow smoke away from the younger teen.

'Do you reckon you and Mycroft would still be friends if you ever broke up?' John asked suddenly.

Greg choked on a lungful smoke and spluttered, coughing and hacking as John laughed at him, the little bastard. He slapped Greg on the back until the brunette could breathe again.

'What the hell happened to me and Mycroft staying together forever?' Greg demanded.

'I was just wondering,' John laughed. 'Jesus, don't have a heart attack.'

Greg grumbled under his breath and coughed again before taking another drag of his cigarette.

'Yes, smoke some more after almost coughing up a lung,' John drawled.

'Shut it, Pipsqueak,' Greg muttered, and John just laughed again.

'So?' John questioned.

'Um... I dunno,' Greg shrugged. 'I don't really like thinking about it,' he admitted.

'Oh,' John hummed, 'sorry.'

'Nah, s'fine,' Greg shrugged. 'Um... I'd like to think that we'd still be friends. I mean, Mycroft's awesome, you know?' John just nodded. 'I really, really, _really_ don't want to break up with him,' Greg continued, 'and if we _did_ break up, I don't think I'd be able to handle seeing him date anyone else. But... I'd still like him to be in my life.'

'I see,' was all John said.

'Are you worried that if you and Sherlock break up you won't be friends anymore?' Greg asked.

John hesitated before nodding. 'He's still my best friend, as well as my boyfriend,' he said. 'And I'd rather have him as my best friend than nothing at all.'

'You'll be fine,' Greg said. 'It'd be hard, obviously, but you'd both pull through.'

'I think you and Mycroft would, too,' John offered, making Greg smile. 'But I don't think you'll ever break up.'

'Yeah?'

'Yeah,' John echoed. 'I wanna go to your wedding.'

Greg laughed and clapped the younger boy on the back. 'I'd make you my best man, but Dimmock would probably kill me.'

'Sherlock would probably be Mycroft's best man,' John said.

'If Anthea didn't try to convince him to pick her,' Greg said.

They laughed together, but went quiet when Sherlock suddenly shouted. The two looked up to see that Mycroft, apparently having grown frustrated with his brother, had just picked him up, tossed him over one shoulder, and walked towards them.

'PUT ME DOWN!' Sherlock ordered.

'Not until John can keep you in one spot,' Mycroft growled.

'MY!' Sherlock shrieked- people were looking now, and Greg snickered as the brothers reached him and John.

'Having fun?' he asked.

'Shut up, Lestrade!' Sherlock huffed. He scowled when Mycroft set him on his feet and flopped onto John, wrapping his arms around John's neck. 'Mycroft was mean to me,' he mumbled into John's neck.

John bit back a laugh and pushed his fingers through Sherlock's curls. 'It's okay. I'll keep the big meanie away.'

'Hate him,' Sherlock muttered.

'You do not,' John replied.

'Do,' Sherlock said petulantly.

Greg snickered and glanced at Mycroft, who already looked exhausted. 'Cigarette?' Greg said, pulling his packet back out of his hoodie pocket.

' _Please_ ,' Mycroft groaned and fell to sit beside him.

Greg lit the cigarette and Mycroft took a long drag, groaning as he blew smoke above their heads. 'How about we go get some coffee after this?' he whispered so Sherlock wouldn't hear. He didn't want to think about Sherlock on _caffeine_.

'Please,' Mycroft repeated, taking another drag of his smoke.

'Cheer up, love,' Greg said and wrapped an arm around Mycroft's waist. 'Just remember that I love you.'

'Goodie,' Mycroft drawled, making Greg laugh.

John smiled at them, Sherlock still wrapped around him. 'How about we get some drinks before we go to the Science Museum?' the small teenager suggested.

Sherlock immediately perked up and started ordering the other three to their feet, tugging on John's hand as he did. Mycroft sighed but stood, cigarette clasped between his lips. Greg kept his arm around his boyfriend and squeezed Mycroft's hip as they started walking.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


There was a Starbucks nearby and Greg and Mycroft got coffee, while Sherlock and John shared a hot chocolate and a large muffin. Sherlock had practically attacked the thing, pulling all the blueberries out and spraying the ground- and poor John- with crumbs.

They walked for a bit, finishing their drinks and food- and in Mycroft and Greg's case, a cigarette each- before trying to find a taxi. Before they could, though, Sherlock had somehow managed to nick Greg's cigarettes and was already puffing on one before John caught him.

'Sherlock!' he snapped, drawing Greg and Mycroft's attention.

'It's my birthday!' Sherlock defended, stepping away from his boyfriend.

'You're fourteen-years-old!' John growled, advancing on Sherlock, and for a little guy he sure looked scary.

'Isn't that better than smoking at thirteen?' Sherlock queried. He looked like he was trying to finish the smoke before John caught him.

'You _did_ smoke at thirteen,' the smaller boy growled. 'Put it out, now.'

'No,' Sherlock sniffed.

'It's bad for you,' John said.

'I don't care,' Sherlock retorted.

John pounced, and again Greg was surprised. He wondered if John played a sport. Sherlock was a quick little stick, though, quicker than John, and he managed to bounce around his boyfriend and behind a group of teenage girls taking pictures of each other. They all giggled and pointed as John chased Sherlock around, the younger Holmes soon hiding himself behind Greg.

'Hey, I'm not protecting you,' Greg said, trying to move aside, but Sherlock was holding onto his hoodie.

'Shields don't talk, Lestrade,' Sherlock snapped before squeaking and darting out of the way. Greg spun on the spot as John ran around him, and then turned to see Sherlock now hiding behind his brother.

By the time John managed to catch Sherlock- thanks to Mycroft wrapping an arm around his little brother and keeping him still- Sherlock had finished half of the cigarette. Sherlock pouted, blue eyes big and wide, as John stamped the butt beneath his shoe.

'There,' John huffed and pointed a threatening finger at Sherlock. 'No more smoking!'

Sherlock just continued to pout and crossed his arms. He sulked for the entire taxi ride, only perking up when they pulled up outside the Science Museum. He was out the door as soon as the car stopped, and John and Greg chased after him while Mycroft paid the driver.

The Science Museum was pretty awesome, Greg had to admit. He'd been thinking that a lot today, it seemed. The East Hall stretched up three floors and was filled with steam engines. Sherlock seemed inclined to climb atop some of the exhibits, but was hindered by Mycroft, Greg _and_ John, the latter threatening to never kiss Sherlock again if he didn't behave himself. Greg snickered at the terrified look on Sherlock's face.

The space gallery was “boring” to Sherlock, who apparently didn't care that the earth and other planets revolved around the sun. He just kept staring at John as his boyfriend tried to explain, and Greg had to hold back all the teases that wanted to break free. It was Sherlock's birthday, and Greg was trying to keep the peace.

'I like this gallery,' Mycroft said as they walked through the Making of the Modern World Gallery.

'Yeah,' Greg hummed, eyes on the Apollo 10 Command Module. It was pretty interesting to see how humans had grown over the years. Sherlock was more interested in the most modern developments and was at the other end of the room with John, chattering excitedly about something or another. 'Sherlock seems to be enjoying himself.'

Mycroft chuckled. 'We visited this museum about four hundred times during our childhood.'

'Really?' Greg asked, always keen to hear more about Mycroft's life before he'd moved to Brighton.

'Every weekend I brought him here,' Mycroft nodded. 'Well, before I started...' he trailed off and cleared his throat. Greg didn't need to hear any more; he knew that Mycroft and Sherlock's relationship had suffered after Mycroft had started using. He just grabbed Mycroft's hand, squeezed his fingers, and pulled him towards the younger couple.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


The Making of the Modern World Gallery was followed by the Flight gallery, which Sherlock again deemed boring, and then the Launchpad. It was here that Sherlock really lost himself, immediately darting away into the crowd, and John had a hard time keeping up. There were over fifty interactive exhibits with people standing by to demonstrate, and Mycroft and Greg wandered through trying a few themselves, but mostly standing back and watching.

Sherlock spent a good hour there, and Mycroft and Greg only left once to get bottles of water. They found John groaning, hands tucked into his pockets, standing beside Sherlock who was yet again demanding a more thorough explanation of something. He then proceeded to call the man working there an idiot and Mycroft quickly intervened while Greg passed a bottle of water to John.

Greg was sure that they did five or six circuits of the building before Sherlock could finally be dragged away. It was way past lunch time now and the four teenagers stopped at a small café to down sandwiches, burgers, and fries. Even Sherlock ate while talking full-steam about everything he'd seen. He demanded that Mycroft take him back, and Mycroft promised him an entire Saturday in the foreseeable future. Greg had never seen Sherlock looked that happy, and it sort of made up for getting dragged through the Science of Art and Medicine _four times_.

Big Ben was their next stop, seeing as how it was on the way to Tower Bridge, and Greg took some photos of himself and Mycroft on his smartphone. Sherlock rolled his eyes at them, but jumped at the chance to get photographed with John, blushing when John snuck a kiss into one of the photos. Greg and Mycroft cooed over the photo and Sherlock flipped them off. He then stole another one of Greg's cigarettes and spent the next twenty minutes running from John.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'I'm kind of exhausted,' Greg said as he stood staring up at the large castle. It was... well, _awesome_ , but Greg didn't want to say it again out-loud. He needed to pick up a dictionary, because seriously, he apparently only knew one or two words to describe cool things.

'Mm,' Mycroft sighed from beside him. 'Did you know that Queen Elizabeth I was held prisoner here before she became Queen?'

'Yeah,' Greg chuckled. 'I took history too.'

'Sherlock forgot,' Mycroft told him. 'I mentioned it once, when I was doing some extra reading on Queen Elizabeth I, and he thought I was talking about the current Queen. She was far less interesting to him after he learned that she'd never been in prison.'

Greg laughed at that. Sherlock might be a genius, but Greg had learned that he had selective memory. Like the whole space thing. Everyone above the age of six knew that the earth revolved around the sun, but not Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes, who could tell you what cigarette someone smoked based on the ash they left behind.

'Sherlock seems to have had fun, though,' Greg said, nodding at the boy, who was inspecting one of the castle's walls, John as ever present at his side.

'Mm,' Mycroft hummed again. 'But he still wants to go to the beach tomorrow,' he groaned.

'Well count me out,' Greg said.

'Sherlock told me that you're not invited,' Mycroft chuckled.

'Sounds good to me,' Greg shrugged. 'I have work the day after tomorrow and I'm planning on sleeping in.'

Mycroft suddenly wrapped his arms around Greg and drew him in for a hug, resting his head on Greg's shoulder.

'You okay?' Greg asked.

'Thank you for coming today,' Mycroft said, voice muffled by Greg's jumper.

'It's fine, I had fun,' Greg said.

'I'm glad,' Mycroft said.

There was a shout from behind them, and they both turned to see Sherlock trying to climb the wall. Mycroft groaned and Greg laughed.

'Come on, time to rein the brat in,' Greg said.

Sighing, Mycroft let his boyfriend go and ran after his brother.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


It was late by the time they got on the train, and Sherlock and John immediately passed out in the seat opposite Mycroft and Greg's. After sneaking a video of Sherlock drooling on John's jumper, Greg turned to Mycroft. 'All in all, the day was a success.'

'Yes, it was,' Mycroft agreed. 'My mother texted me and said that John's mother is picking Sherlock and John up from the train station.'

'Good,' Greg said. 'I want to be able to cuddle you without Sherlock teasing me.'

Mycroft offered him a small smile and said, 'Well... I suppose it's good practice for when we have our own children.'

Greg grinned. He knew that it was probably weird, him and Mycroft thinking about kids at their age, but it always made him stupidly happy. Just knowing that Mycroft was thinking about the future, a future with _Greg_ , was enough to make the older boy's heart stop.

'Not sure what I'll do if our kids are anything like Sherlock, though,' Greg joked.

Mycroft chuckled. 'Genetics doesn't work like that, love. I'd like to teach any child of mine how to deduce people, but...'

When he trailed off, Greg said, 'But...?'

'But it didn't work out for Sherlock and me,' Mycroft frowned. 'We're... well, _weird_ is a nice way of putting it.'

'Hey, don't be like that,' Greg said, nudging Mycroft gently. 'Even if our kids are geniuses they'll still be awesome.'

'Even if they don't have any friends?' Mycroft asked. 'I know how lonely it gets. Sometimes I wish that I was as stupid as everybody else.'

'You're awesome, Mycroft, and Sherlock is, too,' Greg said. 'Besides, you've got friends, and Sherlock has John as well as you and me. All my mates would do anything for him, too. If our kids are super smart they'll be just fine, 'cause we'll always be there for them.'

Mycroft smiled and leaned heavily against Greg's side. Greg, of course, saw that as an excuse to wrap an arm loosely around Mycroft's shoulders. 'You're a wonderful human being, Gregory,' Mycroft said. 'And I'm reminded of that every day.'

'I'm nothing special,' Greg snorted.

'But you are,' Mycroft said, a soft smile playing at his lips. 'Never doubt that.'

'Guess you'll just have to remind me every day, then,' Greg shrugged.

Mycroft smiled and Greg leaned back in his seat, arm still firmly around his boyfriend. They kept their eyes on Sherlock and John, the two still asleep, as the gentle rocking of the train carriage carried them into silence.


	97. I'm Gay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Beta:** sofienolongerexists
> 
> **Chapter Title:** I'm Gay by Bowling For Soup
> 
> **Author's Note:** Um... sorry for over two months of not updating? I'm a bad, bad author! You all have my sincerest apologies. Hopefully the next chapter won't take as long. Thanks for all the comments and kudos, I appreciate them :)
> 
> Enjoy,
> 
> {Dreamer}

The day started normally enough. It was the 7th, meaning Greg and Mycroft had school again. Greg wasn't amused; his tie was strangling him, and wearing a stiff shirt and blazer after the holidays was really weird. Mycroft kept glaring at him because Greg had been complaining since they woke up, but Greg ignored him in favour of his coffee. Both had slept in, meaning they were a bit rushed over breakfast.

And that was when Maggie walked into the kitchen with the mail. 'You both have letters,' she informed the teenagers and handed them over.

Greg frowned, wondering who was sending _him_ a letter; Mycroft got all kinds of things from business associates and the actual businesses he owned, while Greg's few letters were usually from Baker Street Academy.

Mycroft was already pulling his open- and the letter looked _exactly_ like Greg's- so Greg took a sip of coffee before tearing his own open.

It was from Oxford.

Oxford University.

Greg's mouth dropped open as he read over the letter, Mycroft doing the same beside him. Greg couldn't believe this. He'd applied as a _joke_ back in October, he and Dimmock both had. He hadn't actually thought... but they wanted... this was a mistake, right?

'Greg?' Maggie frowned, growing concerned over her son's behaviour. 'What's wrong?'

'They...' Greg had to clear his throat and try again, 'I have an interview.'

Maggie blinked. 'What?'

'At Oxford; the Institute of Human Sciences,' Greg clarified. 'They want me to do an interview for the course I applied for.'

Beside him, Mycroft jolted. 'You applied at Oxford?'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded slowly, still staring at his letter, 'as a joke, you know? Dimmock and I were considering doing some sort of sociology course, and I applied for the Human Sciences one, 'cause you need to do an undergraduate course to later do a Criminology course at the Centre of Criminology. I... I didn't actually think that I'd get an _interview_.' He was still having a hard time believing this. But no, there was his name; _Mr Lestrade, we'd like you to attend an interview from January 13 to January 15_... _WHAT_?! 'I can't believe this,' Greg muttered again.

'Greg, wow, that's amazing,' Maggie grinned. She was the first to recover, of course; she'd always known that her son was a smart boy.

'Yeah,' Greg murmured.

'When do they want you there?' Maggie asked.

'Uh... the 13th to the 15th,' Greg answered.

Maggie nodded. 'So you'll be having three days off school,' she hummed before turning to Mycroft. 'And what about you?'

Mycroft blinked rapidly before looking up at her, then Greg. 'Oh, uh... I have interviews at Pembroke College from the 14th to the 16th.'

'What course do you wanna do?' Greg asked.

'Mathematics & Philosophy,' Mycroft said with a slight smile. 'I've always loved maths, and I wanted to study something else along with it.'

Greg frowned. 'I thought you wanted to do Politics?'

'That was more of a back-up if I don't get the marks for a Mathematics course,' Mycroft admitted. 'I like Politics, but I don't _love_ it.'

'So you can both drive down together,' Maggie suggested, 'either the night before or the day of Greg's first interview. When do you have to be there, Greg?'

'Uh...' Greg consulted his letter, 'by ten am. There's a list of where I have to be and where I'll be staying while I'm there.'

'Night before, then, so you're refreshed,' Maggie said.

' _Christ_ ,' Greg muttered, 'I don't know anything about Oxford interviews! What the hell am I supposed to do? And take? And _say_?!'

'Calm down, Gregory,' Mycroft said, reaching over to pat his arm. 'I've researched the process thoroughly; I can tell you all about it. We have a week until we have to be there; you'll be fine.'

'Yeah,' Greg muttered, 'right.' _Oxford_. Well... he had an interview, that didn't mean he'd actually get in. First they had to offer him a place, and then he had to get the marks. That'd never happen, right? He'd end up with some shitty job in Oxfordshire while Mycroft studied his smarty-pants degree.

'Gregory,' Mycroft said, and when Greg looked at him the red-head was scowling. 'I can _hear_ you putting yourself down. Don't. You'll do fine.'

'You can't know that,' Greg murmured.

'I can,' Mycroft retorted. 'You're smart and charming; you'll do very well.'

'Maybe.'

'Gregory.'

'I'm just being realistic!'

'You're being an idiot.'

'Oh, I thought I was _smart and charming_ ,' Greg retorted.

Mycroft scowled; Greg knew that look. Oh, no...

'No, Myc, I was joking,' Greg said as his boyfriend stood, taking his coffee and letter with him. Maggie watched in amusement as Greg rushed after the younger boy, shouting, 'Don't cut me off!'

'And he wonders _why_ I know so much about his sex life,' Maggie sighed, shaking her head. She cleaned up the boys' plates before grabbing Greg's letter.

She read it over, and couldn't keep the smile off her face. Greg had always been clever and bright; he'd just never applied himself properly. Oh, he had when taking the exams that would decide if he got into Baker Street Academy or not, and Dimmock always managed to convince Greg to study for their important tests or exams, but before Mycroft... Greg had just been adrift; it was the best word Maggie could think of. He'd never bothered, hadn't thought getting great marks _mattered_ , hadn't decided what to do with his life.

And now he did his homework on time, came home with As and A*s, and had applied for _Oxford_. Greg had said it was a joke, but Maggie knew it was more than that. He and Dimmock had probably never considered that they _might_ get accepted, but had tried anyway, because... well, why not?

Maggie bit her lip as she folded the letter, slid it into the envelope, and put it away for safe keeping. She hoped that Greg's interview went well, and that he got in; he had the ability to get the marks needed, she knew it.

Maggie didn't just want her son getting in because Oxford was a great school; it was where Mycroft was going. That boy was a genius, he _was_ going to get in. And Maggie didn't want something like that- one getting in, one getting rejected- to tear Mycroft and Greg apart. They were too good for each other.

There was a crash from outside; the door hitting the wall, and Maggie huffed as she stalked out of the kitchen. If Greg had put a hole in the wall again...

She sighed and rolled her eyes when she caught sight of Greg and Mycroft snogging against the door-frame.

'You'll be late!' she shouted.

The couple tore themselves apart, Greg blushing and Mycroft looking at his shoes.

'Er... right,' Greg hummed, clearing his throat. 'Right, ah... where's my bag?'

'In the car,' Mycroft rolled his eyes.

Greg pouted. 'You make me forget stuff!'

'You're an idiot.'

'And you love me; what's that say about you, huh?'

'Boys...' Maggie prompted.

'Right!' Greg repeated and beamed at his mum, his nervousness about Oxford apparently forgotten. 'Seeya, Mum!'

'Have a good day,' Maggie replied, while Mycroft waved, pushed Greg out the door, and shut it behind them. Maggie shook her head and went back into the kitchen to enjoy her breakfast in peace.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'I'm dying!'

Mycroft sighed as he climbed out of his car, slamming the door shut. 'You aren't dying.'

'I am,' Greg insisted for what felt like the twentieth time that morning. He was pulling at the collar of his school shirt again, and Mycroft rolled his eyes when his partner said, 'My neck is swelling up, I can feel it!'

'No, your neck hurts because you keep moving it and scratching at your skin,' Mycroft told him. He rounded the car so that he could slap Gregory's hands away from his neck, making the shorter boy huff and fidget. 'Stop playing with your tie; you'll get used to wearing one again.'

'Will not,' Greg pouted, ''cause it's-'

'Strangling you,' Mycroft interrupted. 'Yes, so I've heard.'

'Then why aren't you freaking out?' Greg demanded. 'I thought you loved me.'

'I _do_ love you,' Mycroft groaned. 'But you're _not_ dying; your tie _isn't_ strangling you; your neck _isn't_ swelling up. You're just cranky because you're tired and didn't get to finish your coffee this morning.'

Greg frowned. 'Why couldn't we stop at McDonald's?'

'Because we would have been late.'

Checking his mobile, Greg said, 'Myc, we have twenty minutes until classes start!'

'And if we'd stopped at McDonald's, we would have had three minutes,' Mycroft replied. He smoothed down Greg's collar- and his hair, which was truly appalling this morning- before tugging on his sleeve. 'Come on, I want a cigarette.'

'Oh, so we get to do what _you_ want,' Greg grumbled but followed along anyway, still touching the knot of his tie, the collar of his shirt and blazer.

They walked towards the smokers' corner and found a fair few people already there; Joe and BJ were chatting, Sally was on her phone, and Dimmock was talking to... Anthea?

'Anthea?' Mycroft frowned.

'Mycroft!' the girl grinned and threw her arms around the red-head, squeezing the life out of him.

'Anthea,' Mycroft spluttered, 'can't... breathe...'

Anthea didn't seem to care, just squeezed him more, but eventually let him go when Greg reminded her that she'd lose her best friend if she strangled him to death.

'What are you doing here?' Mycroft wheezed when he was finally let go.

'I got a letter from Oxford this morning,' Anthea beamed. 'I have an interview!'

Mycroft grinned. 'That's fantastic, Anthea!'

'So?' she demanded. 'Did you get a letter?'

Mycroft smiled and nodded, making Anthea squeal; Greg wondered if she'd ever made that noise before in her life.

'Yay!' she beamed and hugged him again; at normal human-strength, this time. 'We're totally gonna go to Oxford together and show those smart arses who the real geniuses are!' Anthea declared.

'We have to actually _get in_ , first,' Mycroft reminded her and pulled his cigarettes out.

Anthea waved a dismissive hand. 'Please. Have you _ever_ failed a test in your life?'

'Well... the ones I missed when I was in rehab,' Mycroft reminded her.

Greg glanced down at his shoes. Mycroft was clean now; that was in the past.

Anthea's smile softened, becoming a bit warmer, a bit sadder, then before. 'Oh,' she hummed, before moving on. 'Well, guess who else got a letter?'

Mycroft's eyebrows rose and he glanced at the group, eyes resting on BJ, seeing as he was the closest.

BJ laughed. 'As if I have the marks to get an interview! I'm at Baker Street 'cause I'm good at football. I'm hoping one of the local universities lets me in to play footy for them.'

Mycroft moved onto Dimmock.

'Nah,' the brunette smiled. 'I applied, but no letter for me; not that I expected one.'

Greg shifted uneasily. Right... he had to tell Dimmock that he had an interview.

'Not me,' Joe shook his head, too. 'I'm working for the old man when I finish school. Though Dad reckons I should get a business degree.' He rolled his eyes at that, so Mycroft moved onto Sally.

Sally beamed. 'Last choice, finally!'

'I didn't know you'd applied at Oxford,' Greg commented.

'I applied fucking everywhere, Lestrade,' Sally replied. 'Just so happens that Oxford realised how truly awesome I am.'

Greg snickered.

'So four of us could possibly be going to Oxford together at the end of the year,' Mycroft mused.

Anthea frowned. Sally blinked.

'Four of us?' Dimmock echoed.

Mycroft turned to Greg, who sighed and blew smoke above his head. 'I got a letter,' Greg admitted.

Dimmock's mouth dropped open. ' _Seriously_?' BJ asked, and even Joe looked gobsmacked.

'Hey, don't look so shocked!' Greg huffed. 'I'm smart!'

'Never said you weren't,' Joe threw his hands up. 'You've always got better marks than me.'

'And me,' Dimmock commented. Greg eyed his best friend wearily, but after a few seconds he realised that Dimmock didn't look upset, or pissed off, at all. He was just... smiling. 'Seriously, Greg, you thought I'd be pissed?' Dimmock laughed. 'I don't care! If you get into Oxford, that's awesome! And it'll be 'cause you deserve it!'

Greg blinked. 'Oh.'

'Do we need to hug this out?' Dimmock asked, holding his arms out.

'Get lost,' Greg laughed, and Dimmock smirked. Still... Greg was glad that his best mate was being so cool about it. It almost made Greg forget that he had to go all the way to Oxford and answer questions and... seriously, he had _no_ fucking idea what he was supposed to do!

'Gregory, stop freaking out,' Mycroft ordered.

' _You_ stop freaking out!' Greg retorted. Mycroft just raised an eyebrow. 'Shut up,' the older teen mumbled and drew back on his smoke.

'Don't worry, Greg, we'll coach you,' Anthea smiled. 'Mycroft's known all about Oxford and Cambridge interviews since he was five.'

'That was when Siger told me what was expected of me,' Mycroft said with a roll of his eyes.

Greg scowled. Yeah, he still hated Siger Holmes. Always would.

The bell rang, and Greg and Mycroft both put their smokes out, while Anthea and Sally hugged goodbye, and Joe and BJ wandered off to class. Dimmock waited around for Greg and Mycroft, and the three of them walked through the school together, Sally still with Anthea.

'Seriously, Greg,' Dimmock said after a few minutes, 'I'm happy for you.'

'Yeah,' Greg smiled. 'Thanks, Dimmo.'

Dimmock smiled back.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg's mood fluctuated over the next week. Sometimes he was silent, studying over the very detailed notes Mycroft had made for him; sometimes he was on Oxford's website, trying to find out as much information about his upcoming interviews as possible; other times he freaked out and declared that he was too stupid for Oxford, and was gonna screw up and never get in. in those moments, if they weren't in public, Mycroft would calm Greg down with a few soothing words, some kisses, and maybe a blow job. Okay, usually a blow job that led to some very fantastic sex; not that either of them was complaining.

It was one of those nights. It was the 10th, just two days before Greg and Mycroft would pack up and head to Oxfordshire for their interviews. Greg was, of course, panicking. He'd barely eaten dinner- just picked at the chicken and vegetables Maggie had made- before escaping into his and Mycroft's room. Mycroft had sighed but finished his dinner, helped Maggie clean up, and then followed Greg to their room.

The brunette was on the internet, laptop about to fall off their shared desk, a notebook of Mycroft's notes in his one free hand. His hair was sticking up on end (he'd obviously been tugging on it again) and he was muttering under his breath.

All in all, he was very close to a panic attack. And while Mycroft knew how to handle one, they weren't pleasant for anyone.

'Gregory, please calm down,' Mycroft said as he shut the bedroom door. He flipped the lock that they'd finally purchased, guaranteeing the two some privacy.

'I can't calm down!' Greg snapped.

Mycroft sighed. 'Really, you're hardly going to be able to calm down if you shout things like that.'

'I'm not _trying_ to calm down,' Greg retorted, eyes flicking between his laptop and notebook.

'Gregory-'

'Mycroft, I'm gonna fail!' Greg interrupted. He brandished the book at his boyfriend, eyes now completely focused on his laptop. 'Seriously, why the hell did they contact me?'

'Because you're an intelligent young man full of promise,' Mycroft replied, like had the last few times Greg had asked, 'and they're considering helping mould you into an intelligent man.'

'But _why_?'

'Gregory,' Mycroft groaned again, stepping further into the room, 'they wouldn't have contacted you if they didn't feel you were Oxford material. Whatever you wrote in your application, as well as your school marks, clearly made them believe that you could have a future at Oxford. Yes, Oxford _is_ very difficult to get into, but some people do. Why can't you be one of those people?'

'Because,' Greg responded shortly. But he paused, notebook dangling by his side, hand paused on the touch-pad of his laptop.

'Because...?' Mycroft echoed.

'Because,' Greg repeated, head down, 'I'm not smart, Mycroft. Not like you.'

'Not many people are,' Mycroft said, a note of humour in his voice.

Greg finally looked up, but rolled his eyes as he did so. 'You and Sherlock are the kind of people who get into Oxford, Myc. Not kids who fuck up over and over again who come from a single parent household.'

'You think you don't deserve to go to Oxford because, what, you're poor?' Mycroft asked.

'I know I'm not poor,' Greg shook his head. 'I mean, yeah, me and Mum _are_ when compared to your family, but Mum's got a job, we can pay our bills, Mum sends me to a good school, and I've always had a bed to sleep in, a roof over my head. I've got it better than a lot of people.'

'But?' Mycroft asked, knowing that there was a “but”.

'But people like me _don't_ go to good schools like Oxford,' Greg repeated. 'It just doesn't happen.'

'Why not?' Mycroft questioned.

Greg laughed. 'Good things don't happen to people like me.'

'Why not?' Mycroft repeated. Greg looked at him. 'Why can't, every once in a while, good things happen to “people like you”? Why not, Gregory?'

'Because,' Greg repeated a third time, but had no other argument to offer.

'Sometimes good things _do_ happen,' Mycroft said. 'I've seen your school marks, Gregory. I've seen how passionate you can get about things you enjoy. I've heard about how you practically helped raise yourself, how you and your mother recovered from an awful few years to become warm, kind people. You got into a good high school because you were intelligent, and you'll get into Oxford because you're intelligent. You have a good head on your shoulders, as some might say, and you _deserve_ to go to Oxford.'

Mycroft had been closing in, getting closer and closer, until he and Greg were nose to nose.

'Don't convince yourself that you don't deserve this opportunity, Gregory,' Mycroft said. 'You obviously wanted it enough to apply, even if it was just a joke. Don't downplay yourself so much that you screw up these interviews. Go in there, answer those questions, and be yourself. If you don't get in it should be because Oxford isn't the right fit for you, not because you didn't even try.'

Greg blinked rapidly at him, having no idea what to say in response to all that. Mycroft had never called Greg an idiot with any truth behind the words; it had always been when Greg had done, or said, something stupid. He'd always smiled and praised Greg when he got good marks on his homework or tests, had always told Greg that he could do better because he was smart enough.

And words like that, coming from someone as _brilliant_ as Mycroft Holmes, was... Greg honestly had no words. Mycroft, who thought that the world was full of goldfish (Mycroft and Sherlock's words, not Greg's), thought that Greg was _smart enough_ to get into a school like Oxford. Never mind that Greg was sure that only truly brilliant people got in, because... _Mycroft_ thought that Greg was one of those truly brilliant people.

And Mycroft, well... he didn't say those kinds of things just to make someone feel better. He always told the truth in situations like this; he always told the truth when it _mattered_ , no matter how hard the truth might be to hear.

'Fuck,' Greg gaped, and Mycroft raised an eyebrow, 'fuck, I love you.'

He pounced, and Mycroft stumbled back with the force, but his arms easily wrapped around Greg's waist to pull him closer as Greg sealed their mouths together, licking eagerly against Mycroft's lips.

When Mycroft opened up, let Greg's tongue in, both groaned as they fell into the familiar rhythm, no less intense when the first time they'd kissed. Greg didn't think that it'd ever change.

'I really didn't say all of that hoping for sex,' Mycroft gasped when Greg pulled back for air.

The brunette chuckled. 'Yeah, I know,' he said. He dragged his lips along Mycroft's jaw, up to his ear where he nibbled, and Mycroft groaned softly. 'I know,' Greg repeated, pressing a kiss to Mycroft's cheek. 'Love you.'

'I love you, too,' Mycroft said, because he liked saying it back whenever Greg did.

Greg liked it, too. Fucking loved it, if that made sense. He'd never said those words to anyone but his mum, and sometimes Dimmock when the two were drunk, or after Greg had come out and Dimmock had just said, “I don't care, you're still my best mate”. Mycroft was the first (and hopefully last) guy that Greg would ever say those words to. Because Mycroft made him the happiest fucking seventeen-year-old in the world, and Greg seriously had to ride Mycroft into the mattress because of that.

So he wrapped his arms around Mycroft's neck and tugged, mouth going back to Mycroft's as he did. The two kissed- or tried- as they stumbled over to the bed, Greg going down first but dragging Mycroft right after. Their kissing stopped long enough for the couple to shuffle up the bed, get comfortable, but started again quickly after.

Mycroft was on top, in both their favourite position, and Greg moaned as he arched up. His hands had fallen down, trailing over Mycroft's back until he could grab his arse and squeeze. He moaned again when Mycroft licked his neck.

'Shh,' Mycroft hissed and drew back, Greg making a noise of annoyance. 'Your mother's still in the house.'

'So put the TV on,' Greg retorted.

Mycroft rolled his eyes but did as asked; as long as neither of them shouted (and really, it was more likely to be Mycroft), Maggie shouldn't be able to hear them. Mycroft had to lean over Greg and the bed, reaching towards their desk where Greg had left the remote the night before. He finally wrapped his fingers around it and pressed the power button, watching as the TV flickered into life on the dresser.

Some late night news programme was on, but Mycroft ignored it and dropped the remote over the side of the bed. He went right back to Greg and groaned when their crotches came back into contact. Greg bucked up against him, trying to find relief for his straining erection, and Mycroft wasn't much better. They pushed their bodies together, practically humping each other, like... Well, like the horny teenagers that they were.

Greg tugged on Mycroft's t-shirt as he sucked on Mycroft's neck, making the red-head hiss every time Greg nipped at his flushed skin. 'This needs to come off,' he ordered.

Mycroft chuckled against Greg's ear. 'I will if you will.'

'You're an idiot,' Greg laughed, but Mycroft sat up and Greg followed, the two scrambling to get their shirts- or, in Greg's case, his jumper- off. They fell back on each other, even though sex usually meant they'd have to remove their jeans. Greg didn't care; he loved having Mycroft's warm, freckled skin pressed against his own. He liked running his fingers over Mycroft's shoulders and surprisingly toned chest. The skin was so smooth, smoother than Greg's, usually hair free, and his flat stomach was the same.

Greg hooked a few fingers under the waistband of Mycroft's jeans, but just used his grip to tug Mycroft that bit closer, their groins firmly pressed together, their legs tangled and pressing into muscle as they tried to find better positions.

It was all very rough, sloppy, and passion-filled. Greg liked when he and Mycroft started slow; when they kissed and nipped and touched until they removed their clothes and slowly proceeded further. But he also liked this; liked Mycroft sucking at his neck, hard enough to leave a very noticeable hickey come morning; liked when Mycroft dominated him, held him down with his body weight, used his hands to grip Greg hard enough to bruise; liked when Mycroft would finally grow too horny to care and wrestle Greg out of his jeans and pants, then proceed to fuck him into next week.

Oh, _yes_ ; Greg definitely liked that.

When Mycroft shifted to attack the other side of Greg's neck, Greg managed to shuffle about until he could wrap his legs around Mycroft's waist, his arms around Mycroft's back. He dug both his heels and fingers in, arching up as he did, and grinned when Mycroft growled against his skin.

'Come on,' Greg moaned, 'fuck me!'

'If you'd hold still-'

'None of your excuses, mister!' Greg interrupted. Mycroft rolled his eyes. 'Just get naked and stick your cock in me!'

'Ever the romantic,' Mycroft muttered, but was smiling as he pulled back. He ran his fingers from Greg's chest, down his stomach, and to the waistband of his jeans. Greg shivered and lifted his hips off the bed when Mycroft popped the button free, then tugged the zipper down. Another shift of his lower half and Mycroft was peeling Greg's jeans and boxers off, leaving them in a messy heap somewhere at the end of the bed.

Greg still had his socks on, and he tried to remove them, but was sidetracked when Mycroft slid off the mattress to take his own jeans off. Greg didn't think that he'd ever tire of naked Mycroft. Naked Mycroft was his favourite Mycroft. Well, that and sleepy Mycroft, who was an adorable bastard.

Mycroft was half-hard, cock still twitching as it hardened, and Greg licked his lips as the red-head climbed back onto the bed. One of Greg's socks was still on, the other caught on his toes, but he forget about them quickly when smooth, flushed skin pressed against his own.

He groaned and arched up, and Mycroft let him. He buried his face in Greg's neck, breathing already becoming laboured, and Greg heard the familiar sounds of the bedside drawer opening, the large bottle of lube they'd bought only a few days ago being pulled out.

The pop of a cap was enough to have Greg's dick twitching eagerly, and the muffled laugh from Mycroft told the brunette that his boyfriend had spotted it.

'Don't laugh,' Greg huffed.

'I'm not laughing,' Mycroft denied and drew back, a smirk on his face.

'Hey, he's eager for _you_ ,' Greg reminded the taller boy. 'You should feel privileged.'

'Oh, I am,' Mycroft drawled, one eyebrow cocked.

Greg groaned and let his head drop back onto the pillows. Of course Mycroft was a master of teasing. Honestly, his voice alone and various facial expressions were enough to have Greg hot all over.

'Oh, I'm sorry,' Mycroft mused, voice perfectly pleasant as he squeezed lube onto his hand, 'did you want to tease me some more?'

'You're an a-hole,' Greg muttered, though there was no heat behind the words. 'If you can't laugh with the person you're fucking... uh...'

'Go on,' Mycroft said. His smirk widened.

'Fuck you is what,' Greg retorted. Which made absolutely no sense, but Mycroft was now kneeling between his legs, slowly warming gel between his hands. Was Greg supposed to have his head on straight when he was about to have super hot sex with his super hot boyfriend?

_Hell no_.

A slick finger slid into him with no warning, and Greg tensed momentarily before relaxing, his body accepting the intrusion thanks to years of practice. Mycroft had nice fingers, Greg mused as Mycroft slowly stretched him, first with one finger, then another two. They were long, pale; delicate, Greg supposed. Piano hands. Piano fingers?

Ooh, that was his prostate.

'Fuck, feels good,' Greg moaned, now actively rolling his hips onto Mycroft's hand.

Mycroft smiled as he watched, his gaze flicking between Greg's face and where his fingers disappeared into Greg's body. When Greg looked up it was to see Mycroft's free hand stroking his erection, pre-come gathering at the slit whenever Mycroft squeezed the head. God, Greg kinda wanted to blow Mycroft, now. But the fingers felt good, working him open for something bigger, and Greg _really_ wanted a damn good shag.

But Mycroft's cock was delicious.

Decisions, decisions.

Mycroft eventually took the choice away. Suddenly his fingers were gone, applying more lube to his dick for a smooth entrance. Greg shifted a bit, lifted his hips, and looked up as Mycroft leaned over him, hips lining up....

' _Fuck_ ,' Greg moaned again as Mycroft slowly but surely pressed into him. Even when they fucked hard, Greg had found that Mycroft still liked to give him a few seconds or minutes to adjust. Mycroft wasn't exactly small, and Greg could only take so much pain with his pleasure. 'M'good,' he murmured after a minute or two, and leaned up to press his mouth against Mycroft's jaw, his neck, then his lips when Mycroft moved closer.

'You're always so tight,' Mycroft sighed.

'Should do this more often, then,' Greg replied.

Mycroft snorted and snapped his hips, burying himself deeper and effectively making thought impossible for Greg. At least for a while. 'The human body doesn't work like that, Gregory dear.'

'S-Still,' Greg gasped as Mycroft ground against him. God, he'd never felt this full with anyone else. Mycroft was fantastic. 'Should- _ah_ \- practice,' Greg got out through a hiss of pleasure.

'Mm,' was all Mycroft said, and rolled his hips again. Greg glared at him. Seriously, Mycroft's cock was rubbing deliciously against Greg's prostate, Greg's legs were near his chest, and his dick was trapped between both their stomachs... Mycroft was a fucking tease.

Greg smirked when an idea popped into his head. He wrapped his arms around Mycroft's back and tugged him closer until he could press his lips against Mycroft's ear. 'Baise moi tout de suite.'

He felt more than one part of Mycroft go stiff at the words, and then Mycroft growled low in his throat, which made  _Greg_ go stiff, and oh, yes,  _now_ things were getting truly awesome.

Mycroft drew back slowly until their eyes met. Mycroft's were almost black, and Greg didn't doubt that his own matched. 'Oui, Monsieur,' Mycroft purred, and Greg bit his lip, waiting, just waiting-

Mycroft pulled out, only to slam back in, making Greg almost bite through his lip to hold in the scream. Mycroft's hips pistoned back and forth, cock stretching Greg, filling him, hitting Greg's prostate to send white hot pleasure dance through his body.

_Yes, yes, yes,_ Greg inwardly chanted, trying to keep from shouting. But oh, shit, it felt  _so good_ . Mycroft's hands were on his shoulders, pressing Greg hard into the mattress. Greg knew that he could get out of the grip if he wanted, but he found it ridiculously hot when Mycroft held him down. So he just tried to wrap his legs firmly around Mycroft's waist and take the pounding his boyfriend was giving him.

'Oh, merde!' Greg moaned after a particularly hard thrust sent him jolting up the bed. The entire frame moved with them, and Mycroft growled again.

'Fils de pute.'

'Merde,' was Greg's reply. In his defence, he was getting thoroughly fucked- and rather well, too.

Mycroft groaned long and loud and drew back, grabbing Greg's hips with both hands and lifting him off the mattress.

'Yes!' Greg hissed as the new position changed the angle of Mycroft's thrusts, making his pushes smoother, his cock seeming to fill Greg that much better. The only thing better, really, was Greg riding Mycroft, and... Wait, he'd wanted to do that. 'Lève-toi,' Greg said as he pushed at Mycroft's chest, 'lève-toi, Myc.'

Mycroft groaned, but his thrusts stopped. 'Oui?'

Greg couldn't help but laugh a bit. Seriously, he'd never spoken French during sex before Mycroft.

'Get up,' Greg repeated in English. Mycroft moved back, and Greg pushed until his boyfriend was on his back, pale body flushed pink, cock standing proud against his stomach.

Greg licked his lips as he climbed aboard. He grabbed Mycroft's dick with one hand and wasted no time in sinking back down, both teens groaning as Greg was once more filled.

'Putain!' Mycroft near shouted.

'Shh,' Greg hummed as he rolled his hips.

'Shut up,' Mycroft replied and grabbed Greg's hips. He thrust up harshly, and Greg moaned again, bouncing on Mycroft's cock a few times before establishing a rather harsh rhythm.

Mycroft had planted his feet on the bed, and used his grip on Greg's hips to fuck up into him. Greg groaned and moved as best he could, his hands splayed on Mycroft's chest, knees either side of him. Fuck, it felt so good, and Greg quickly lost himself to being filled over and over again, moving about every other thrust until Mycroft was hitting his prostate every time.

'Putain,' he echoed Mycroft, followed by, 'fuck, fuckity, _fuck_.'

Mycroft laughed breathlessly beneath him, but the sound was quickly swallowed when Greg bent forward as best he could to seal their mouths together. Their kisses morphed into harsh breaths and nips, the two breathing against each other as they fucked. Greg managed to get a hand between them and wrapped it around his dick, trying to pull in time with Mycroft's rhythm.

But really, he never had any form when Mycroft was fucking him, especially this fast and hard. It was all brutal thrusts and grunted moans, their skin slapping together, Mycroft's cock squeezed beautifully and Greg's hole abused in the best way possible.

Mycroft had started hissing things in other languages, ones that Greg didn't understand but that told the brunette his boyfriend was close. So he squeezed harder than he would naturally, flesh dragging against Mycroft's cock with every push. Mycroft moaned and threw his head back, his nails digging into Greg's hips. But Mycroft always wanted Greg to come first, and Greg didn't see any reason not to indulge.

'Mycroft,' he moaned, 'fuck, right there, love. Bit more, so close...'

He trailed off, muttering and grunting and generally making noises that would be embarrassing if anyone other than Mycroft was around to hear them. Mycroft just fucked him that much harder, the TV barely drowning out the noises they were making.

'Fuck!' Another hard jab at his prostate had Greg coming, his hand milking the climax for all it was worth. He made sure to bring Mycroft with him, and after a few more thrusts Mycroft was growling Greg's name amongst broken sentences in French, Chinese, and what Greg thought might have been Russian.

Greg coated Mycroft's stomach in come, while Mycroft emptied into Greg's body. Their movements slowed until they stilled completely, and Greg fell forward, barely managing not to squish Mycroft under his weight.

The sheets would need changing. And Greg really hoped that his mum hadn't heard any of that. He was too fucked out to care, though, and just smiled as he closed his eyes, enjoying the way his body hummed and ached in all the right places.

'You're pretty good at that,' he eventually commented after about ten, fifteen minutes. 'We should do it more often.'

Mycroft chuckled.

'No, seriously,' Greg said, the grin audible in his voice, 'we should do it _all the time_. Like, five times a day. Or six. Hell, make it seven; seven's a lucky number.'

'You're ridiculous,' Mycroft muttered. But he rolled over far enough to give Greg a soft kiss before he settled on his back, body hot and sticky, but sated.

Greg was silent for a minute, apart from breathing in and out heavily. After a while he shifted a bit, stretched his legs, and murmured, 'Thank you.'

'For what?'

'Calming me down,' Greg said. Mycroft shifted to look at him, and was met with a soft, warm smile. 'You always know just what to do.'

'Sex usually calms people down,' Mycroft quipped.

Greg snickered. 'Yeah,' he agreed, 'but when that won't work, you don't use it. You always seem to know just what to do.'

'I'm observant,' Mycroft half-shrugged.

'Yeah,' Greg agreed, 'but you also know me pretty well, so... ya know, thanks.'

'Believe me, it wasn't a problem,' Mycroft said.

Greg laughed again and nudged Mycroft with one hand. There were a few more minutes of silence before, 'Wanna go again?'

Mycroft groaned and closed his eyes. 'I'm tired.'

'Want me to do all the work?'

Mycroft's eyes snapped open at that, memories of Gregory fucking him flashing through his mind.

'Gotchya covered, Mycroft darling,' Greg grinned and nimbly climbed atop the younger teen, hunching over him to give him a dirty kiss.

'Well,' Mycroft mumbled against Greg's mouth, 'I suppose, if you need some more calming...'

'Oui,' Greg grinned and rolled his hips.

Mycroft groaned. This was turning out to be a _very_ pleasurable night.

  
  


**The French roughly translates as:**

**Baise moi tout de suite** – fuck me now

**Oui, Monsieur** – yes, sir

**Oh, merde!** – oh, shit!

**Lève-toi** – stand up/get up

**Fils de pute** – son of a bitch

**Putain!** – translates to “whore”, but is used as if to say “fuck!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** Before anyone gets up in my business; I'm taking some liberties in regards to Oxford's interview process. Because, being the idiot that I am, I only just started really researching the thorough process of applying at Oxford. Because of this, I learned that Oxford conducts its interviews in November and December. This story is currently taking place in January; ergo, Mycroft and Greg both missed the interview process. However, because I REALLY want them to study together, I'm changing it so that Oxford conducts its interviews in January. I'm sorry if this annoys anyone- it's annoying me- but I really screwed up when I didn't research thoroughly and am now using artistic licence as my excuse. So hopefully you can overlook that and still enjoy the story.
> 
> Cheers,
> 
> {Dreamer}


	98. The Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Title:** The Forgotten by Green Day
> 
>  **Author's Note:** I'm such a terrible author. I really just need to put in a permanent “I'm sorry for not updating”, it seems. Anyway, sorry for the long wait. Also, this chapter hasn't been beta-d. I sent it to my beta two weeks ago and she hasn't gotten back to me yet. I didn't want to keep you guys waiting, so here's the chapter. If she does get back to me I'll update the chapter with any corrections.
> 
> Cheers,
> 
> {Dreamer}

Greg groaned and flopped onto their bed. Mycroft chuckled, but the brunette ignored him in favour of rolling all over the mattress, arms and legs flailing.

'What are you doing?' Mycroft asked.

Greg glanced up long enough to see that Mycroft was already unpacking before flopping down again. 'Nngh.'

'That wasn't an answer, Gregory.'

'Was,' Greg grunted.

'You need to unpack,' Mycroft replied.

'Na-ah.'

Mycroft rolled his eyes and started dividing his clothing into piles, while Greg just laid there, silent. When Mycroft got back from the laundry, Greg was sitting up, a cigarette in one hand and an ashtray in the other.

'You had one twenty minutes ago,' Mycroft reminded his boyfriend.

'Yeah, but Mum'll be home in about half-an-hour,' Greg said. 'I wanna have one before she demands to know everything that happened at Oxford.'

'Perhaps we should have taken a camera,' Mycroft mused. He grabbed Greg's suitcase and sat it on the bed.

'What are you doin'?' Greg mumbled around a lungful of smoke.

'Unpacking for you,' Mycroft sighed. 'Since, apparently, you're incapable of doing it yourself.'

'Aww,' Greg grinned, 'I knew you loved me.'

'But of course,' Mycroft said and bowed slightly, making Greg snicker.

Greg's mobile went off as Mycroft was unpacking for him, and the older teen fished around in his jeans before pulling out. 'Mum,' he told Mycroft before answering. 'Hi.'

' _Gregory!_ ' Maggie near screeched, and Greg winced. ' _Are you home yet?_ '

'Yeah, we just got in about fifteen minutes ago,' Greg said.

' _Oh, I can't wait to hear all about Oxford!_ ' Maggie said. She was speaking so loudly that Mycroft heard her, and the red-head chuckled when Greg rolled his eyes and pointed at the smartphone.

'Yeah, I can't wait either,' Greg replied.

' _Sure, sure,_ ' Maggie laughed, ' _don't worry, I won't ask you to repeat yourself. Anyway, you and Mycroft had a safe trip?_ '

'Yeah, we're fine,' Greg nodded.

' _Good,_ ' Maggie said. ' _So, what did you want for dinner? I can pick something up on my way home or cook when I get there._ '

'Ahh...' Greg hummed and looked up at his partner, who was folding Greg's clean shirts back into their correct drawer. 'Mycroft, what do you want for dinner?'

'I don't care,' Mycroft replied.

'Mycroft doesn't care,' Greg echoed into his mobile. 'So whatever you want is fine.'

' _Okay,_ ' Maggie replied. ' _Is Chinese okay?_ '

'Sounds good,' Greg said. 'Curry prawns for me. Mycroft?'

'Satay prawns,' Mycroft said over his shoulder.

Greg echoed his order, and he and Maggie exchanged a few more words before the woman hung up. Greg sighed and leaned back against the headboard, taking another drag of his smoke. 'It's gonna be a long night.'

'She's just excited, Gregory,' Mycroft said and turned to face him. 'I would be too if my son had a chance at getting into Oxford.'

'Any son of yours _would_ go to Oxford,' Greg chuckled. 'Or Cambridge.'

'Mm,' Mycroft hummed. 'I wouldn't mind if they decided not to.'

'Oh, yeah?' Greg asked, and Mycroft nodded. 'So if we had a kid and he dropped school after his GCSEs and wanted to, say, be a tattoo artist, you wouldn't mind?'

'If he was happy and healthy, why would I care?' Mycroft countered. 'I spent my entire life trying to live up to my mother and father's expectations. I won't do that to my own son.'

Greg smiled softly as he finished his cigarette. He was now imagining a teen with Mycroft's bright red hair and freckles, arms covered in tattoos, face all pierced. And he'd be able to speak like he'd swallowed a thesaurus. Greg giggled to himself but went silent when Mycroft sat beside him.

'What is so amusing?' Mycroft asked.

'Just imagining our kid,' Greg replied. Mycroft raised an eyebrow, obviously wanting Greg to continue. 'He'd look like you,' Greg said, eyes sliding over his partner. 'Dark red hair, freckles, pale.'

'Blue eyes?' Mycroft asked.

'Nah, maybe green or brown,' Greg shook his head. ''Cause we'd have to get a surrogate or whatever the word is, and he'd get her eyes.'

'Perhaps Anthea would do it for us,' Mycroft mused.

'No way!' Greg whined. 'Then our kid'd be a ninja; I can't raise a ninja!'

'Anthea isn't a ninja.'

'Is,' Greg pouted.

Mycroft smiled and kissed the gesture away, making Greg hum. 'What else?' Mycroft asked when they slowly broke apart.

'He'd have tattoos and piercings, but be really smart, like you,' Greg said.

'Like _us_ ,' Mycroft corrected, and Greg rolled his eyes. 'I'm not the only one who got an interview at Oxford,' the taller teen reminded him.

'Whatever,' Greg flapped a hand. 'My point is he'd be totally bad arse but really smart.'

'And own his own tattoo parlour, obviously,' Mycroft added.

'Exactly,' Greg laughed.

Mycroft chuckled and kissed him again before standing.

'No, where are you goin'?' Greg whined.

'Shower,' Mycroft said. 'I smell like I've been sitting in a car for two hours.'

'That's because you _have_ been-'

'Yes, yes,' Mycroft interrupted him. 'Are you going to join me, or continue making love to our bed?'

'Don't mock our love!' Greg waggled a finger and flopped forward, once more rubbing himself all over the fresh, clean duvet. 'Mycroft, it's _so_ lovely! Not scratchy or smelly or used by multiple people! It's so clean and _pretty_!'

'You have problems,' Mycroft murmured, but Greg ignored him in favour of burying his face in the dark blue fabric and breathing in deeply. 'I shall leave you and the blankets alone to get reacquainted.'

'Thanks, dear!' Greg replied.

Mycroft just shook his head, smiling as he grabbed some fresh clothes and went to shower.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg had just pulled some pyjama bottoms and a thick hoodie on when the front door banged open. Mycroft was still in the bathroom, so Greg left their bedroom and trailed into the living room.

'Hey, Mum!' he called when he entered, and caught sight of Maggie in the kitchen.

'Food's in here!' Maggie replied. 'And a guest!'

Greg frowned and joined her in the other room, where he found Sherlock Holmes sitting at the kitchen table. He was wearing his oversized black coat, a blue scarf half wrapped around his face and neck. He scowled at Greg briefly before offering Maggie a smile when the woman handed him a can of Coke.

'Hey, Sherlock,' Greg said. 'What are you doin' here?'

'I have an open invitation, Lestrade,' Sherlock replied.

'Okay...' Greg smiled. 'Um, Mycroft's in the shower. Should be out soon.'

'Are you staying for dinner, Sherlock?' Maggie asked. The young teenager nodded, and Maggie said, 'Greg, can you dish up dinner? I want to get changed.'

'Yeah,' Greg replied.

'I bought plenty of food, so Sherlock can pick what he wants,' she added before disappearing.

'What _do_ you want?' Greg asked. He knew from personal experience that Sherlock was a picky eater.

'Rice and those prawn crisp things,' Sherlock replied.

Greg was a bit surprised at getting a quick, clear answer, but shrugged it off in favour of grabbing bowls, plates, and utensils. He poured some fried rice into a bowl for Sherlock and put the prawn crackers beside him. Sherlock immediately dug in, using a spoon to cram as much rice as he could into his mouth. Greg shook his head and got back to work, dishing up his mum's, Mycroft's, and then his own dinner.

'So...' Greg hummed. Sherlock raised an eyebrow, cheeks bulging with food. 'What _are_ you doing here?' Greg repeated his earlier question. 'You're always welcome, obviously, but why now? And how'd you even get here?'

Sherlock swallowed his mouthful with some difficulty, and had to take a sip of Coke to clear his throat. 'John's sister dropped me off.'

''kay,' Greg hummed.

'I wanted to... to see Mycroft,' Sherlock mumbled the last few words, eyes narrowed. 'Is that a problem?'

'No,' Greg laughed. 'I know you love your brother, Sherlock, you don't have to hide it or get all bitchy.'

' _You're_ a bitch,' Sherlock huffed, making Greg laugh again. Sherlock fiddled with his fork a bit and Greg went to get a drink, letting the younger teen get his thoughts together. When Greg re-took his seat, Sherlock glanced up at him, blue eyes clouded. 'You went to Oxfordshire,' he stated.

Greg nodded. 'Yeah.'

'Mycroft didn't tell me,' Sherlock continued, eyes back on his bowl. 'Anthea told my mother that she was going to Oxford for a few days for her interviews, and that Mycroft was going, too. He didn't tell Mother, either.'

'Okay...' Greg frowned a bit, wondering where this was going.

Sherlock's fingers tightened around his spoon. 'I always knew he'd go to Oxford, it's been his plan since he was ten,' Sherlock said. 'It was the one thing he and Father agreed on. And... and I thought that he'd _tell_ me.'

Sherlock blinked rapidly and dropped his spoon before hunching down in his seat, arms wrapped around himself. Greg stared at him for a bit, confused, before remembering all the times that Sherlock had turned up at his house, just to see Mycroft; all the hushed conversations he'd overheard between the brothers, and the many times that Sherlock would walk the twenty minutes from Holmes Manor to Greg's place just to spend time with his brother.

Because Sherlock was all alone at their house. He didn't have Mycroft to hide with when their father was on the war-path. He didn't have his big brother around to chat to, or yell at, or whatever the hell it was that the two did together that mere mortals couldn't understand. And, soon, Mycroft would be even further away; Oxfordshire wasn't really that far from Brighton, but it was far enough for a fourteen-year-old.

'Oh,' Greg said when everything snapped into place. 'Right, yeah, Mycroft should have told you.'

Sherlock just scowled at him.

'Hey, get him to buy you something as an apology,' Greg shrugged. Sherlock grunted. 'Come on, Sherlock, you know that he didn't purposely keep it from you. We had a lot of homework to get in before we left, and then all the studying we did for the actual interviews. And Mycroft had to deal with me freaking out every day after I got my letter.'

'Why would you freak out over a letter?' Sherlock questioned.

'Uh... 'cause it was from _Oxford_ ,' Greg said. 'I mean, seriously; can you imagine _me_ at Oxford?'

Frowning, Sherlock said, 'You aren't an idiot, Lestrade,' which was probably the nicest thing that Sherlock had ever said to his face. 'You're not intelligent, but you aren't a complete idiot,' he then added.

Greg sighed and rolled his eyes. 'Yeah, thanks, mate.'

Sherlock just shrugged and went back to his food, eating slowly this time. Greg heard Mycroft exit the bathroom and pad into their bedroom, but didn't say anything.

'He really didn't mean to keep it from me?' Sherlock said so softly that Greg needed a moment to process his words.

'No,' he stated, 'definitely not.'

Sherlock nodded and bit his lip before saying, 'What do you think I can get out of him?'

Greg snorted and Sherlock quirked his lips. 'I dunno,' Greg shrugged. 'Some smokes, science equipment, books? Anything, probably.'

Sherlock nodded again and the two fell into silence, Greg finally starting his dinner. He was chewing on his prawns and rice when Mycroft entered the kitchen wearing jeans and a baggy t-shirt, his eyebrows arching when he saw his brother.

Sherlock scowled at him. 'You owe me three beakers and a new Bunsen burner!' he ordered.

Mycroft blinked. 'Excuse me?'

'Don't question the boy, Mycroft!' Greg said, pointing a finger. 'Just get him the equipment!'

Mycroft blinked rapidly and glanced between them before going with, 'Okay...?'

'Good,' Greg said, and Sherlock nodded. The two smirked at each other before going back to their food, and Mycroft slowly approached the table.

'You two getting along is... disturbing,' he decided.

'It _really_ is,' Greg said.

'Don't get used to it,' Sherlock added.

'I hope I don't have to,' Mycroft smiled. He picked up his plate and put it into the microwave to heat up, pressing a kiss to Greg's temple as he passed him. Sherlock poked his tongue out but didn't say anything, and Greg smiled at the warm, comfy feeling the atmosphere had. Did that make sense? _Totally,_ he decided.

Maggie found them all eating in silence five minutes later, and raised her eyebrows as she re-heated her own dinner. 'Three teenagers sitting silently in a room... there's a joke in there somewhere,' she said.

'You're _hilarious_ , Mum,' Greg rolled his eyes.

'I try,' Maggie replied. She leaned over to wrap an arm around him and give him a quick kiss to the cheek, before doing the same with Mycroft. 'How was your trip?' she asked.

'Fine,' a blushing Mycroft responded, making his brother snicker into his rice.

'I'm pretty sure I made an arse out of myself and will be banned from Oxford for all eternity,' Greg declared, receiving an eye-roll from his boyfriend and a sigh from his mother. 'No, seriously,' Greg insisted. 'I won't be able to visit Mycroft in his dorm when he gets in! I'll have to sneak in, which means I'll need ninja lessons from Anthea! And that's just _so_ not cool!'

'You're being a bit dramatic,' Mycroft said. Greg pouted at him. 'From what I've heard, Gregory's interviews went well, and I think that mine did, too.'

'Of course they did,' Sherlock muttered. 'Your ability to bullshit your way through anything is astounding.' Maggie only had to give him a glance for Sherlock to murmur, 'Sorry,' making both Greg and Mycroft giggle into their dinner. 'Shut up,' Sherlock muttered, his face flushing a delicate pink.

It was adorable, it really was, but Greg decided not to poke the bear, so didn't say anything.

'Okay,' Maggie said. She picked up a prawn cracker and waved it between her son and Mycroft. 'Tell me everything that happened in _great_ detail. Don't leave anything out!' Greg and Sherlock both groaned, while Mycroft, of course, launched into a _very_ detailed account of what had happened since he and Greg had left the house a few days earlier.

'I hate my brother,' Sherlock grumbled.

'Me too,' Greg agreed.

They glanced at each other and Sherlock smiled. Greg smiled back.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mycroft and Greg stayed in the kitchen to help Maggie clean up after dinner, leaving Sherlock free to wander around the house. He ended up in the couple's room and went through their drawers to amuse himself. He wrinkled his nose when he found condoms and lubricant, and raised an eyebrow when he discovered Greg's secret ashtray. He was looking over their books and CDs- a mixed collection that spoke of both their tastes- when he heard Mycroft and Lestrade heading towards the bedroom, their voices low.

'Do you really think that you did that badly?' Mycroft asked.

'No,' Lestrade replied. 'I mean, I probably could have done better, but I didn't cock it up too badly, I think. But everyone else interviewed was _so_ smart. Remember that girl from London?'

'Ella?' Mycroft asked. 'Yes, she was quite intelligent. And, well...'

'An arsehole?' Lestrade supplied. 'Yeah. She kept giving me tips on the interview process, and when I say tips, I mean that she went into explicit detail over and over again of what I should do and why I'll fail. She didn't even _know_ me.'

'People are like that,' Mycroft responded. 'I'm sure you did very well.'

'Fingers crossed,' Lestrade said. 'I really don't wanna go to a different university than you.'

'We'll make it work if you do,' Mycroft said.

There was silence, then, before Sherlock's ears picked up the tell-tale signs of kissing. He wrinkled his nose and backed away from the door, going to face the DVD collection once more. He hadn't thought about what would happen if Mycroft and Greg went to different universities. It was common knowledge, even to someone Sherlock's age, that long-distance relationships never worked out. It was why Sherlock already had plans to attend a university near John- if he decided to go at all. He liked learning, and adding to his knowledge, but school environments weren't his thing.

Sherlock frowned a bit as he ran his finger over the spines of Greg's collection of _Doctor Who_ DVDs. He mentally crossed his fingers that Greg and Mycroft would both get into Oxford, and soundly told himself that he would never admit that he'd done such a thing, even on threat of death.

Mycroft and Greg finally stopped trying to eat each other's faces and entered the room, Greg speaking first.

'So, what are we doing?' he asked, clapping his hands together. 'Or did you two want some time alone?'

Sherlock just looked at him, eyes narrowed, and Greg nodded.

'Right, there are probably some things in the kitchen I can do,' he said. 'Actually, I wanted to see if the cheese is still good. I want to make tacos tomorrow.' He smiled at the brothers before backing out of the room and once again disappearing, leaving Sherlock and Mycroft alone.

'I really wish you'd stop doing that,' Mycroft sighed.

'Doing what?' Sherlock asked.

'Chasing Gregory out of the room,' Mycroft said.

Sherlock shrugged a shoulder. 'He offered. Besides, I just want a minute or two to talk. He can come back in when he's done inspecting the... cheese.'

Mycroft sighed again, but offered his sibling a nod before sitting on the bed. Sherlock took one of the chairs at the desk. 'What did you wish to discuss?' Mycroft questioned.

Frowning, Sherlock folded his arms and raised his eyebrows. Mycroft arched one in response. 'You didn't tell me you got an interview at Oxford,' Sherlock finally broke.

'Ah,' Mycroft hummed. 'Yes, I thought about that when I got to Oxfordshire.'

'Oh, did you?' Sherlock asked scathingly.

'Sherlock,' Mycroft said, 'I _am_ sorry, but there was a lot on my mind. Gregory was close to a nervous breakdown every ten seconds after he received his own letter, and I had my hands full.'

'Two seconds, Mycroft,' Sherlock snapped. 'It would have taken you _two seconds_ to text me! Instead I had to find out from Anthea!'

'And, once again, I apologise,' Mycroft responded.

'Is this how it's going to be from now on?' Sherlock demanded, and Mycroft frowned. 'You'll have the holidays off when you're at Oxford, or a long weekend, and you'll _forget_ to tell me that we could spend time together? Or you'll be home visiting Lestrade's mother and _forget_ to tell me that you're back. Or maybe you and Lestrade will get married while you're at university and _forget_ -'

'Sherlock,' Mycroft interrupted, and Sherlock snapped his mouth shut. 'First of all, same-sex marriage is still illegal in this country.'

'Civil partnership, then,' Sherlock flapped a hand.

Mycroft smiled slightly. 'Do you really think that I'd forget to tell my brother that I was getting married?'

'Well how would I know?' Sherlock huffed. 'You seem to forget everything else that concerns me.'

Mycroft sighed and slid over the bed to grab Sherlock by the arm. He was too strong, and Sherlock scowled when he was tugged to sit beside his brother. 'Sherlock,' Mycroft started again, 'you are the most important person in the world to me, and you know it. I simply forget to let you know, and, once again, you have my apologies. I didn't mean to leave you out.'

Sherlock huffed and folded his arms.

'Sherlock,' Mycroft repeated.

Sherlock grunted.

'If I get into Oxford,' Mycroft continued, 'you will always be welcome, no matter what day, and no matter what tests or homework or exams I have coming up. If you ever need to get away from the Manor, you're more than welcome to call me. I'll pick you up if I have to.'

'Even at four in the morning?' Sherlock asked softly.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. 'And I'll drag Gregory out of bed, just to please you.'

Sherlock snickered, imagining the look on Lestrade's face if he was pulled out of bed that early.

'And you're always welcome here, too,' Mycroft added. 'Even if Gregory and I aren't here, Margaret will let you stay.'

'She's nice,' Sherlock mumbled, and Mycroft nodded in agreement. 'Do you think Lestrade will get into Oxford?' the younger Holmes then asked.

'I think that he has a very good chance,' Mycroft replied. 'He's smart, and... different, to the people who usually attend Oxford. I think the men and women conducting the interviews will take that into consideration.'

Sherlock bit his lip, chewing on it as he mulled over his next words. 'I, uh... I suppose that I, well... I hope you get to go together.'

Mycroft smiled and wrapped an arm around his brother. He gave Sherlock's shoulders a squeeze as he said, 'I hope so, too.' Sherlock nodded. 'Now, are you going home tonight, or did you want to stay?'

'Stay,' Sherlock said immediately. 'I told Mother where I'd be, and I have plans with John tomorrow. You can drop me off at his house before lunch.'

'Very well,' Mycroft agreed. 'Now, how about we put on a documentary and watch Gregory die from boredom?'

Sherlock grinned and nodded, making Mycroft ruffle his hair affectionately. 'Mycroft!' Sherlock snapped as he tried to pat his curls down. 'I hate you!'

'I know you do,' Mycroft responded with a grin.

Sherlock pouted.


	99. U & I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Title:** U  & I by Houkago Tea Time

Dimmock was walking across the grass towards the tables the group usually took over when Greg wrapped an arm around his neck.

'Dimmo, I need your help!'

'Jesus, Greg, calm down,' Dimmock muttered. 'You almost spilled my noodles.'

Greg frowned and glanced down at the cup of noodles Dimmock had bought from the canteen. 'Ah,' he hummed, 'can I have some?'

'No.' Greg pouted but Dimmock ignored him in favour of stirring the small plastic fork, checking the softness of his noodles. 'What do you want?'

Greg blinked rapidly before remembering what he wanted, and said, 'Right, yes. I need your help.'

'With...?'

'With, um...' Greg frowned, trailed off, and rubbed a hand through his messy brown hair. Dimmock just stared at him for a bit, waiting. He knew that Greg would spit it out eventually. 'So, uh...' Greg cleared his throat after a minute, 'me and Mycroft started dating in November.'

Dimmock stared at him. 'Okay...?'

'Well, um... November 8th to be exact,' Greg said.

Dimmock just nodded, and Greg huffed. 'I don't get what you want, Greg,' Dimmock sighed. 'So you and Mycroft have been dating since November, so what?'

'Well, um, this Saturday will be our, um... our four month anniversary,' Greg said, mumbling the last few words.

A sly grin overtook Dimmock's face, and his best friend huffed and folded his arms, staring at the ground.

'Why, Greggie,' Dimmock practically cooed, 'are you thinking of celebrating yours and Mikey's four month anniversary?'

'God, I hate you,' Greg groaned. 'Me and Mycroft never really go out on dates, alright? So I thought it'd be nice to actually do something.'

'Huh,' Dimmock blinked. 'Wait, you and Mycroft don't go out on dates?'

'Not really,' Greg shrugged. 'We live together and go to school together, it's not like we never see each other, not like you and Molly.'

'Mm,' Dimmock hummed, 'yeah, that makes sense.' He and Molly definitely wouldn't go out as much if they lived together. Which was why Dimmock was hoping to get into the University of London. Molly had applied at a few places, but she wanted to go to Barts, as did her sister. Dimmock and Molly had discussed their university plans long ago, and both had agreed not to put their futures on hold for the other. But they _really_ wanted to at least live in the same city.

'Dimmock?' Greg poked the shorter boy in the shoulder, and Dimmock sighed.

'What is it you wanted, again?' he asked.

'Besides you not making fun of me?' Greg ventured.

'Oh, no, I'm  _so_ gonna keep making fun of you,' Dimmock grinned. Greg sighed. 'Come on, Greg, it's  _you_ ! The one guy who I never thought would come to  _me_ for dating advice.'

'Well you and Molly have been together almost two years,' Greg said.

'Two years this June,' Dimmock said proudly. 'We got together at your sixteenth birthday party.'

'Oh, yeah,' Greg hummed. That had been a good party. And it was where Greg had met Molly, Lily and Alex for the first time. 'Anyway-'

'You want tips on dating your boyfriend?' Dimmock interrupted.

' _No_ ,' Greg scowled, making Dimmock snicker. 'I just need some, you know, ideas on where to take Mycroft. Or maybe some date ideas? I dunno.'

'You don't know,' Dimmock sighed and shook his head. 'Okay,' he continued, trying to take the situation seriously. He  _would_ help Greg if he could, he just found the situation hilarious. 'Where have you and Mycroft gone before? Proper dates, I mean, not hanging out at the shopping centre or anything.'

Greg hummed as he thought, scratching the back of his neck and staring at the ground. 'We went on a picnic for our first date,' he admitted.

Dimmock tried to control his smile, he really did, but Greg's glare wasn't helping. 'Okay,' the older boy cleared his throat, 'what else?'

'That's... about it, really,' Greg admitted. 'We talked about going into London and seeing a play or something, but I wouldn't even know how to go about booking tickets and stuff. Plus I can't really afford to go see a play.'

'Mycroft could,' Dimmock said.

'But  _Mycroft_ isn't the one planning the date,' Greg pointed out.

'Are you sure he isn't planning anything?' Dimmock asked.

'Um... I dunno,' Greg shrugged.

'Right,' Dimmock sighed. 'Okay, here's what I think you should do; look up a nice restaurant- maybe text Molly, she remembers all the good ones we've been too. After dinner take a walk on the pier, it's always romantic. That's a nice date that isn't too cheap, but isn't expensive, either. Then the next date it's Mycroft's turn and he can take you to a play or whatever. That way you get an idea of how to get tickets, and also get a feel for what plays Mycroft  _does_ like, so you can save up for your one year anniversary and take him out for a better night. I'll ask Mycroft if he has anything planned and maybe hint that  _you_ do so he doesn't plan anything. Sound good?'

Greg stared at him, mouth hanging open and eyes slightly wide. Dimmock wondered if he'd broken his best friend.

'If I didn't love Mycroft I'd kiss you, Dimmo,' Greg declared. He did hug Dimmock again, though, almost spilling his noodles.

'Yeah, yeah,' Dimmock grumbled, but had to bite back a smile. 'Go snog your boyfriend and leave me alone.'

'Yes, sir!' With a sloppy salute and a wink, Greg took off across the grass, Dimmock watching as he practically draped himself over his seat, and Mycroft.

Dimmock shook his head and trailed after his friend. Greg was an idiot, but at least he was a romantic one.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Do you have a second?' Dimmock asked Mycroft after the bell had gone off, signalling the end of lunch.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow, but said, 'I have a free period, so yes.'

Dimmock nodded and glanced at Greg, who looked between the two before grinning widely. 'We have Sociology, so I'll see you there, Dimmock.' Dimmock nodded and Mycroft kissed his boyfriend goodbye, watching as he walked off with BJ and Joe.

'What did you want to discuss?' Mycroft asked as he shouldered his bag.

Dimmock's hands were full of rubbish, and they made a detour to a bin before their conversation continued.

'So, Greg tells me that this Saturday is your four month anniversary,' Dimmock revealed.

Mycroft blinked at that and flipped through his mental calendar. 'Hmm,' he mused, 'so he's counting from the day he asked me out.'

'Yeah,' Dimmock nodded.

'It could be said that we've been dating since September,' Mycroft continued. 'In that case we've been dating for almost six months.'

'Uh, okay...' Dimmock mused, 'I just think that Greg's using this as an excuse to take you out on a date.'

Mycroft stopped at that and Dimmock did, too, glancing back at the taller boy as he thought.

'Mycroft?'

'Gregory wants to take me out?' Mycroft asked. 'On a proper date?'

'Yeah,' Dimmock repeated. 'He said that you two don't go out much 'cause you live together and go to school together and are basically joined at the hip.'

Mycroft sighed but didn't say anything; it was true, after all.

'Anyway, he asked me for advice,' Dimmock revealed.

'Did he now?' Mycroft chuckled.

'Well, Greg hasn't exactly dated before,' Dimmock said.

'Neither have I,' Mycroft replied.

'I know,' Dimmock nodded, 'but I've been dating Molly for almost two years, so I suppose I'm the best person for him to go to. He can't exactly ask BJ or Joe; neither have dated all that much.'

'I see,' Mycroft hummed.

'I gave him some ideas,' Dimmock said, and when Mycroft glanced at him, the brunette laughed. 'I'm not telling you what he has planned; that's up to him.' Mycroft sighed. 'Anyway, I told him I'd ask you to make sure you didn't have anything planned. You don't, do you?'

'No,' Mycroft shook his head, 'I wasn't aware that he'd want to celebrate four months together.'

'Again, I don't really think that he cares all that much,' Dimmock admitted. 'He'll care about the big ones; one year, two, etcetera. But he just wants to take you out properly, have some time alone. I know that Maggie works a lot of nights, but it'd probably be nice to go out like a proper couple and have some time alone.'

'It would,' Mycroft agreed. It  _did_ sound nice. He and Gregory had a lot of alone time together, but going out, eating at a restaurant, it'd be different; they could go for a drive or a walk, just another young couple wandering the streets of Brighton. 'I don't have anything planned, so I'll wait for Gregory to tell me on Saturday,' Mycroft said. It was Thursday, meaning that Mycroft only had to wait two days to find out what Gregory had planned. Mycroft was usually a patient person, but he found himself looking forward to his boyfriend's plans. 'Thank you for helping, Dimmock.'

'No worries,' Dimmock smiled. 'Greg's kind of good at the whole dating thing, huh?'

'He is,' Mycroft agreed. 'Sometimes better than I am.'

'Nah, you're both pretty good at it,' Dimmock said, tossing a grin at the red-head. 'You'll get better, the longer you date. It becomes easy with the right person.'

'Gregory is definitely the right person,' Mycroft said, voice gentle, and Dimmock's grin softened.

'Yeah,' he agreed. 'Well, um, that's that. I gotta get to class. I'll see you later.'

Mycroft nodded and watched as Dimmock walked off to the hall, whistling under his breath. Mycroft couldn't help but smile as he made his own way to the library. Gregory was full of surprises.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Oh my God, that is _so_ cute!' Maggie exclaimed when Greg shared his plans Saturday afternoon. She had work in a few hours, so would be out of the house by the time Greg and Mycroft returned from their date. Which was one of the reasons why Greg had made the plans for Saturday; an empty house, just him and Mycroft full of good food and romantic feelings. It was gonna be _awesome_.

'Mum,' Greg sighed, 'can you calm down? Just a little bit.'

'Nope,' Maggie beamed and clapped her hands together. 'My babies are growing up.'

'I'm not a baby,' Greg scowled, but Maggie ignored him and pinched his cheeks. 'You have issues.'

'And you have half of my DNA,' Maggie replied. 'I can't wait until you and Mycroft have kids. You'll see how much fun teasing them is.'

'No way, I'll totally be the cool parent,' Greg said.

His mother laughed. 'You say that now,' she said, 'but just you wait. Nothing beats embarrassing your children, especially in front of their friends.'

'You should write a parenting book,' Greg grumbled. ' _101 Ways to Screw Up Your Kids_ .'

'It'd be a best seller,' Maggie replied.

Greg rolled his eyes and went back to making his mum's lunch. It was an old tradition that went back to when Greg was nine and first realised that he was a good cook, not just someone who could follow instructions and throw meals together. His mum had always worked hard, and Greg had always tried to help out wherever he could.

His grandpa had taught him a few quick, tasty meals when he was still alive, and Greg had always enjoyed recreating them for his mum. He'd usually make some type of soup or curry- usually with rice- along with a sandwich or other snack. It saved his mum money, and it filled her up when she was constantly on her feet at the hospital.

'What are you making again?' Maggie asked. She was at the kitchen table going over some bills, and didn't look up when Greg passed her to grab the salt and pepper from the pantry.

'Just some beef soup,' Greg said, 'we can eat the rest tomorrow. I also made a sandwich for you; ham, cheese and tomato sauce.'

'My favourite,' Maggie hummed, 'you'll make Mycroft a good house husband one day.'

'I hate you,' Greg groaned and Maggie laughed into her papers.

'What's funny?' Mycroft asked, wandering into the kitchen. He'd holed himself up in his and Greg's shared bedroom all day going over his homework. He'd spent the last two afternoons with Sherlock, and had let his studies fall behind. Greg had taken great delight in waving his completed essays in Mycroft “I'm A Genius” Holmes' face.

'I'm apparently a house husband,' Greg said, giving Mycroft a kiss when the red-head joined him at the kitchen counter. 'Well, _your_ house husband.'

'I promise to buy you pretty aprons and always thank you for a delicious meal,' Mycroft said.

'I hate you both,' Greg complained.

'You do not,' Maggie said.

'You love us,' Mycroft added.

'You're beginning to sound like my mum,' Greg grumbled, going back to stirring the soup. 'Should I be worried?'

'Maybe,' Mycroft smiled. 'But you love us, so it doesn't matter.'

Greg rolled his eyes. Silence fell, Greg cooking and Maggie busy with bills. Mycroft leaned against the counter and folded his arms, just watching Greg as he added salt, pepper, and a few other things to the simmering soup.

'Taste this,' Greg ordered suddenly, holding a spoon full of soup out for his boyfriend. Mycroft blew across the top before opening his mouth, letting Greg feed him. Greg smiled and Mycroft returned the gesture as he swallowed. 'Well?'

'It's good, like everything you make,' Mycroft responded.

'I'll have to start making shitty food so you learn to appreciate it, then,' Greg said.

'Language, Gregory,' Maggie hummed without looking up.

'Sorry,' Greg said, though he winked at Mycroft, making the red-head chuckle.

'So,' Mycroft said, 'what are our plans for tonight?'

Greg smiled, eyes on the pot of soup. 'Dimmock didn't spill, did he?'

'No,' Mycroft complained, 'I asked twice on Thursday, and a few more times Friday. He refused to say anything.'

'It's not like I have a huge thing planned,' Greg said, 'just something small.'

'And I'm sure I'll love it,' Mycroft said.

'Aww.' The teenagers turned to look at Maggie, who grinned and waved her hands. 'Sorry, sorry; I won't say any more.'

'Good,' Greg grunted, 'or you don't get the special lunch I made just for you.'

'Oh, Gregory, now you're just being mean,' Maggie pouted.

Mycroft chuckled. 'You get that from her,' he said to his partner.

Greg, of course, pouted; 'I do not.' Mycroft raised an eyebrow. 'Shut up,' Greg grumbled, eyes once more on his cooking.

Mycroft leaned over to kiss his cheek and ask, 'What time do I have to be ready by?'

'Six-thirty,' Greg said. 'Our reservation is for seven.'

'You made reservations?' Mycroft questioned. 'So we're going out to a restaurant.'

'Don't deduce my plans, Mycroft Holmes, or I'll take you to McDonalds!' Greg threatened, waving his wooden spoon at the younger boy.

Mycroft just smiled and kissed him again. 'I'd enjoy myself anywhere, as long as I'm with you.'

Greg blushed brightly and grumbled under his breath, ignoring the soft snickers he could hear coming from his mum. Mycroft smiled and checked the time on his BlackBerry.

'It's only five, but I think I'll have a shower before we go.' He kissed Greg one more time before leaving the kitchen.

'I'm sorry, Greg, but you two are just adorable,' Maggie said.

'Shut up,' Greg grumbled. Maggie giggled.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg convinced Mycroft to let him drive, and the brunette even managed to find parking near the restaurant. Greg grinned as he climbed out of Mycroft's Jag. 'I like your car,' he said. Mycroft chuckled and Greg pocketed the keys before taking his boyfriend's arm. 'Come on.'

Greg had dressed in skinny black jeans, a black dress shirt, and a red tie, with his jacket thrown over the top. Mycroft had dressed similarly, and Greg admired the younger teen as they walked.

'There are a lot of restaurants around here,' Mycroft mused.

'It's Brighton,' Greg snorted. 'There's a restaurant every five feet.'

'Mm,' Mycroft hummed. 'So which one are you taking me to?'

'Well, I haven't been there myself, personally,' Greg explained, 'but Molly said she likes the food, and I think Doctor Phil took Mum there once.'

'Oh?' Mycroft raised an eyebrow. But Greg pressed his lips together and shook his head, making Mycroft smile. Mycroft's eyebrows went back up when Greg tugged him down Black Lion Street, and when he spotted the restaurant they were walking towards he chuckled. 'I didn't know you were a fan of Jamie Oliver.'

Greg shrugged. 'Not a fan, really. Like I said, I haven't been here before. Molly said it was good.'

The two teenagers glanced around as they walked in. Soon enough they were seated at a small table for two, and Mycroft smiled as he looked around. The restaurant was nice, romantic without being overly so; a place where a couple could have a nice meal, or even a family.

Greg fidgeted with his napkin, and then with his drinks menu as a waitress walked over to take their orders. Greg ordered Coke, Mycroft a lemonade, and they were left alone.

'Um...' Greg cleared his throat, 'so...'

'Why are you nervous?' Mycroft asked. 'It's not like this is our first date.'

'First date at a proper restaurant,' Greg pointed out.

'True,' Mycroft said. He reached over and squeezed Greg's hand. 'Calm down, Gregory. Even if the food's bad and the service poor, I won't care. I just like spending time with you.'

Greg smiled slightly. 'Really?'

'I wouldn't still be dating you if I didn't like you,' Mycroft pointed out, and Greg laughed.

'Right, right,' he said and drew his hand back so he could inspect the menu. 'What are you getting?'

'Some type of pasta, I imagine,' Mycroft mused, making Greg laugh again.

They didn't get any appetisers, instead ordering their mains when the waitress came back. Greg got the baked lasagne, Mycroft the penne pomodoro. When the waitress left Mycroft turned back to Greg.

'Dimmock's brought Molly here?' he asked.

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'I texted Molly and she sent back a list of the restaurants she and Dimmock have been to. This was at the top of her list.'

'When we can legally drink we should come back,' Mycroft said. 'You need wine to truly enjoy Italian food.'

Greg snorted, then pasted an innocent smile on his face when one of Mycroft's eyebrows twitched up. 'Of course we should, darling,' he said.

'Stop it, Gregory,' he hissed when the two women at the table beside them glanced their way. Mycroft flushed when one of them _winked_ at him, and Greg had to cover his mouth to stifle his laughter. 'I hate you,' Mycroft muttered.

'Hey, you just told me that you didn't care where we were, as long as you were with me,' Greg pouted.

'Yes, then I remembered who you are,' Mycroft sighed.

'Mean, Mikey, very mean,' Greg's pout deepened.

Mycroft just smiled.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


The food was nice, Greg thought, and Mycroft nodded his agreement when Greg paid the bill. They skipped dessert because Greg had other plans and Mycroft allowed himself to be led from the restaurant, down the street, and then to _Scoop and Crumb_. It was a shop that John loved; Mycroft had taken him and Sherlock there time and time again during various outings. They both got the strawberry cheesecake, and then Greg was off again, dragging Mycroft along until the two were walking near Brighton Pier.

It was lit up this time of night, the various rides open and running now that it was the weekend. Families and couples like themselves moved back and forth, and Mycroft spotted the odd tourist milling about.

Mycroft was full by the time he finished his ice-cream, and Greg watched him toss his napkins in the closest bin.

'Where now?' Mycroft asked.

'Uh... this is pretty much the end of my plan,' Greg admitted. 'I mean, I thought we could just walk around for a bit; enjoy the sights and sounds, that kinda thing. Or we could take a drive, or-'

Mycroft shut Greg up with a kiss, and smiled when he pulled back. 'A walk sounds lovely,' he said.

'Does it?' Mycroft nodded, and Greg smiled. 'Okay, then,' he said. He slid his fingers down Mycroft's arm until he could clasp their hands together, and Mycroft threaded his fingers through Greg's, giving them a soft squeeze.

'Come on,' Mycroft said. It was his turn to drag Gregory along, and Greg laughed as he followed. Without a true destination in mind, the two walked along, hands joined together.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'I've never really liked the beach,' Mycroft mused.

'Really?' Greg asked. They were walking along Brighton beach, sand and pebbles crunching beneath their shoes. Greg kicked at one of the many stones he could see and watched it tumble over others. 'Why not?'

'I'm pale and I burn,' Mycroft reminded him.

'Oh, yeah,' Greg nodded. 'I think you've mentioned that before.'

'Probably,' Mycroft said. 'Sherlock always wants to go to the beach.'

'Experiments,' Greg laughed. He _definitely_ remembered that. He wondered how many- and what type of- experiments Sherlock could do at the beach.

'Exactly,' Mycroft said.

'Does he drag John along?' Greg asked.

'All the time,' Mycroft said. 'John mostly follows him along muttering about how amazing Sherlock is. That or he groans and demands a rest. You've seen Sherlock when he gets in a mood; he doesn't stop.'

'Yeah,' Greg nodded. 'He and John are good together though, don't you think?'

Mycroft smiled, his face shadowed, only slightly lit by the lights to their right. 'Definitely,' he said. 'I've never met anyone who understands Sherlock as well as John does. He's closer in age to Sherlock than I am, and he just... understands him in a way that I can't.'

'That's 'cause you're his brother,' Greg said, offering his boyfriend a small shrug when Mycroft glanced at him. 'I think siblings are supposed to hate each other a little bit. Not that I'd know, of course, being an only child. Well, as far as I know, anyway.'

'As far as you know?' Mycroft echoed.

Greg chuckled softly. 'My dad took off when I was four, remember? For all I know he's got a dozen kids out there.'

'Do you think you'll ever see him again?' Mycroft asked. He regretted it when Greg's eyes immediately narrowed, drifting off to the water beside them. 'I'm sorry,' Mycroft murmured.

'No, no, it...' Greg sighed, 'it's fine. I don't  _want_ to see him again. Just thinking about him pisses me off a bit, you know?' Mycroft nodded. 'I don't want him to come back, 'cause he'll probably just cause trouble. That's all he ever did.' They fell into silence for a bit until Mycroft suddenly stopped. 'Myc?' Greg said when he was pulled into Mycroft's chest. 'Hey, it-'

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft interrupted.

Greg smiled. 'It's fine, Mycroft, really. We can talk about my dad, or about your dad, or any of that crap.'

'We shouldn't, not tonight,' Mycroft said.

'It's okay,' Greg said. He reached up to cup Mycroft's cheek, and kissed him softly. 'I love you.'

'I love you, too,' Mycroft replied. 'Tonight really has been lovely, Gregory, thank you so much.'

'I'm glad you're having fun,' Greg said. 'I really wanted to do something, just us, you know? We never go out.'

'It's not your fault,' Mycroft said.

'No, I know,' Greg laughed. He kissed Mycroft again. 'We gotta do this again soon.'

'Yes, we do,' Mycroft agreed. 'And when we both get into Oxford we'll go out on dates in Oxfordshire.'

Greg groaned and stepped back, pulling Mycroft along the beach by their still-clasped hands. 'Don't mention Oxford!'

'You'll get in, Gregory.'

'You can't know that.'

'I can.'

'What, did you bribe the people who decide?' Greg asked.

'No,' Mycroft chuckled. 'I just believe in you.'

Greg snorted. 'Whatever you say. Now, forget about Oxford. Let's go check out the pier, okay?'

'Okay,' Mycroft agreed easily, checking his BlackBerry as they went. 'When we get home I'll show you just how much I appreciated tonight.'

Greg shivered, but he had a grin on his face when he glanced at his boyfriend. 'You'd better,' he growled playfully.

'Oh, so was this date just for sex?' Mycroft sighed.

'Yep,' Greg grinned. 'I only do nice things for sex.'

'I knew it,' Mycroft mourned, 'and here I thought that you loved me.'

'Nah, just your body-  _oi_ !' Greg yelped when Mycroft pulled his hand back to push him, Greg stumbling over the pebbles beneath them. Greg turned to see Mycroft smirking at him, eyes dark in the poor lighting.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft said, completely insincerely.

'You will be,' Greg declared and pounced. Mycroft darted to the side, easily out-stepping Greg, and Greg shouted, 'Stay still!'

'Never,' Mycroft replied. He laughed when Greg lunged again, only to miss once more. He turned suddenly and took off, easily racing across the pebbles and sand.

'Get back here!' Greg shouted, but laughed as he chased after his boyfriend.  _This,_ Greg thought as he ran,  _is what a date should be like._ Fun, laughter, and a sexy man.

Who Greg was  _so_ kissing the shit out of when he caught him.  _Damn Mycroft and his fast legs_ , Greg thought when he missed Mycroft  _again_ .

'That was poor, Gregory,' Mycroft tisked. 'Put some more effort into it.'

'I'll show you effort,' Greg muttered and pounced again. After a brief scuttle he wrapped his arms around Mycroft and the red-head went still. 'Caught you,' he said.

'Yes,' Mycroft agreed with a soft smile, 'you did.' He kissed Greg then, lips soft.

Greg smiled, everything else forgotten as he kissed back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** The ice-cream shop I wrote about closes at 7pm on Saturdays according to their website. Let's ignore that. In fanfiction land, everything's open until whenever the hell I feel like.
> 
> In other news... my bad. Seriously, my bad. I'm sorry for how long this took. I have so many WIPs to write and real life is a pain. I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> {Dreamer}


	100. Don't You Think It's Time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Title:** Don't You Think It's Time? by Bob Evans

It was February when the letters came. Greg had kind of forgotten about them, in all honesty. Oxford was still some distant dream to Greg. He was more worried about what he'd do when Mycroft got in and he didn't.

Greg knew that he shouldn't put his life on hold, or change his plans, just for his boyfriend. But he couldn't help but think and feel that he and Mycroft were different. Weren't there couples out there who'd met in high school, gotten married, and had happy lives together? So what if a few had grown apart? Even Greg's mum said that he and Mycroft were different. They lived together for Christ's sake and Greg had never, not once, re-thought his and Mycroft's relationship. Not seriously, and not since they'd really started dating properly.

So... yeah. Greg didn't think that following Mycroft to Oxfordshire was putting his life on hold. Hell, Greg wouldn't even be _going_ to university if it wasn't for Mycroft. He'd assumed he'd just fall into some job, like mechanic or manager at Tesco. He hadn't thought seriously about applying at any university; Oxford had been a joke. If he didn't get in, Greg figured that he'd take some online courses, or maybe just straight up join the Metropolitan police. He could still be a uniformed officer without a degree. If he made it through training, that is.

Greg was half asleep and eating lunch- leftover soup- when Mycroft wandered in. He was yawning, eyes at half-mast, but Greg still gave his boyfriend his very best leer.

'Stop undressing me with your eyes,' Mycroft murmured through another yawn.

Greg snickered into his soup. 'I didn't get a good enough look last night,' he said.

'You had your head buried between my legs for a good ten minutes,' Mycroft pointed out, making Greg groan.

'Bastard,' he said when he saw the smug look on Mycroft's face. Greg went back to his soup, which he'd made the night before. He'd done most of his homework before the weekend had even started and had decided to make a nice, home-made soup. It was always better the day after, when everything had had a chance to soak and simmer. Maggie had already taken some to work, but there was plenty left, and Greg hummed and moaned as he dunked bread into the warm liquid.

Mycroft scowled at him the entire time, but when quiet when he'd sat with his own bowl and started eating.

'Wassa time?' Greg mumbled around a mouthful a few minutes later.

'Almost twelve,' Mycroft said, not looking up from the letter he was reading. Maggie had dumped the post on the table before leaving for work, but Greg hadn't bothered taking a look. Most letters were for Maggie and Mycroft, anyway.

Greg yawned. 'I have some sociology questions to answer and a PE thingy to fill out, then I'm clear for the rest of the weekend.'

'A “PE thingy”, Gregory, really?' Mycroft asked in amusement.

'Shut up,' Greg moaned. 'It's too early to talk properly.'

'It's almost midday,' Mycroft pointed out.

'Shut up,' Greg repeated. He pouted when his boyfriend chuckled at him, but didn't bother saying anything else. He was too tired... and worn out... Mycroft had fucked him nice and long the night before. Crap, Greg hoped that his mum hadn't heard anything. He wasn't really all that quiet when Mycroft topped.

They fell into silence after that, and Greg didn't realise that Mycroft's silence was “stunned” rather than “tried” until a few minutes later. He frowned when he saw Mycroft staring at a letter he'd just opened, eyes slightly wide and mouth hanging open.

'Mycroft?' he questioned. His frown deepened when Mycroft didn't reply. 'Mycroft, what's wrong?'

'I...'

'Mycroft!' Greg repeated. His boyfriend finally snapped out of it and shook his head before looking at Greg. 'What's wrong?'

'I got in,' Mycroft said.

Greg frowned again. 'Got in...?' he echoed.

Mycroft nodded as he said, 'Yes, I... I got an unconditional offer.'

'A what?'

'From Oxford!' Mycroft said, sounding slightly hysterical.

'Okay, calm down,' Greg said. He dropped his spoon into his bowl and stood, rounding the table and pulling out the seat beside Mycroft. Mycroft didn't move once, but his eyes had strayed back to the letter. 'You got an unconditional offer?' Greg asked, and Mycroft nodded. 'I... don't know what that is,' Greg admitted.

'An unconditional offer means that I can study at Oxford no matter what marks I get in my A-levels,' Mycroft explained. 'It means that I'm going to Oxford in September no matter what.'

Greg's mouth dropped open. Mycroft was going to Oxford. No matter what. Mycroft had gotten into his school of choice!

'Mycroft!' he grinned. 'That's fucking fantastic!' He threw his arms around Mycroft's shoulders and drew him in for a quick kiss before hugging the shit out of him.

Mycroft half-laughed, but mostly just hugged Greg back.

'I got in,' Mycroft murmured.

'You did,' Greg laughed. 'I knew you would.'

Mycroft didn't say anything, he just hugged Greg tighter. They eventually pulled apart, and Mycroft was smiling now, but it was nowhere near as bright as Greg's own grin.

'You're awesome,' Greg said.

Mycroft just shook his head and finally started eating, prompting Greg to go back to his own food. It was a little cold, but Greg didn't care; his boyfriend was going to _Oxford_. He was gonna study at the school of his dreams, and blow everyone else out of the water.

'There's a letter here for you,' Mycroft suddenly said.

Greg looked up to see the red-head holding an envelope out to him. Greg took it, and it wasn't until he'd spotted the emblem in the top corner that he realised who the letter was from.

Greg swallowed thickly. 'Oxford.'

Mycroft nodded slowly. So he'd already realised who was sending Greg a letter. A very thin letter. Fuck, Greg just _knew_ that it was a rejection. What was he gonna do then?

'Gregory?' Mycroft's voice brought him back, grounded him, and Greg took a deep breath.

Okay, he could do this. It wasn't the end of the world if he didn't get into Oxford. He'd applied to a few other schools. If he went somewhere else, well, he and Mycroft still had weekends and holidays. They'd make a long-distance relationship work. Greg didn't want casual sex or one-night stands, not anymore.

'Gregory,' Mycroft repeated. Greg finally nodded and tore the letter open. There were a few sheets in there, and they all fell onto the table as Greg looked for what he was sure would be a rejection letter. He didn't realise he'd gotten almost the exact same letter as Mycroft- including the university/college fees and acceptance form- until he flipped the top letter open and read it out-loud.

'“Dear Mr Lestrade”,' Greg read, his voice sounding hoarse. He cleared his throat and continued, '“I am pleased, on behalf of the Institute of Human Sciences, to offer you a place for admission in October 2013 to the Bachelor of Arts in Human Sciences, a 3-year course. This offer is conditional upon your obtaining the following grades in your forthcoming examinations”...'

Greg trailed off as he read the grades he had to get. AAA... Greg could do that, right? He could totally do that. He usually got As, sometimes an A* if he studied his arse off.

'Shit,' Greg gaped.

'Gregory?' Mycroft said slowly.

'I... fuck, I got in,' Greg gasped. 'I mean, I gotta get good marks in my A-levels, but... they accepted me.'

He looked up slowly to see Mycroft grinning at him, the gesture identical to the one Greg had been wearing seconds before when Mycroft had gotten his acceptance.

'You got in,' Mycroft echoed.

'Yeah,' Greg agreed. ' _Fuck_.'

Mycroft laughed, and then he was out of his seat and tugging Greg up, arms warm and strong as they wrapped around Greg's shoulder. 'I love you,' Mycroft said as they hugged. 'I mean, I would have loved you even if you hadn't gotten in, but I'm glad we're going to the same university.'

'I know,' Greg laughed breathlessly. 'Still gotta get good marks, though.'

'You will,' Mycroft said, 'even if I have to tutor you myself.'

It sounded like a promise, and Greg smiled as he buried his face in Mycroft's neck. He was going to Oxford. With _Mycroft_. Greg had to admit, today had just turned into one of the best days of his life.

Now all he had to do was study.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Maggie couldn't stop crying and calling Greg her “baby boy”. Greg had asked her to stop once, but after that he gave up. His mum was happy, _proud_ , and Greg smiled every time she looked at him, sniffled, and said, 'I can't believe my baby's all grown up.'

Thankfully Mycroft didn't escape the whole thing unscathed. Maggie was prone to hugging fits that night and she had no problem pulling Mycroft in and hugging him until he couldn't breathe.

Mycroft also hadn't escaped Anthea, who'd texted him about a dozen times after Greg and Mycroft had scampered off to their bedroom to have celebration sex. They couldn't ignore Anthea when she started calling Mycroft's BlackBerry over and over again, and Greg had heard her shout, ' _I GOT IN!_ ' from across the bedroom.

So Anthea was going to Oxford, too. Despite what Greg often implied, he liked Anthea; she was Mycroft's best friend and had helped him keep clean, had helped him stay sane while living with Siger Holmes. Greg hoped she got the marks she needed.

There was some soup left, but Maggie decided to make something, and Greg was glad that he had the night off from cooking. It seemed that since Mycroft had moved in, all dinners had been prepared for Greg, or had been takeout. Greg wondered if he'd been subconsciously showing off. Then he remembered that Mycroft had insisted on helping pay for groceries if Maggie wouldn't let him pay rent, so they'd been making more trips to Tesco for actual food.

Greg was halfway through his shepherd's pie when his mobile rang. He put his fork aside and answered without looking at the caller ID. 'Hello?'

' _Greg!_ '

Greg winced and pulled his mobile back. Okay... the caller ID said  _Molly Hooper_ , but that sounded like Lily. 'What can I do for you, Sunshine?' Greg asked when he'd put his phone back to his ear.

There was a pause before, ' _How'd you know it was me?_ '

'Molly doesn't screech nearly as loudly,' Greg said. 'Actually, I don't think she screeches at all.'

' _Damn it,_ ' Lily muttered. ' _You'd think, being twins, we'd sound alike._ '

'You're fraternal twins,' Greg reminded her.

He laughed when Lily said, ' _I know what we are, Gregory Lestrade!_ '

Still giggling, he asked, 'So what's up?'

' _Me and Molly turn eighteen soon_ ,' Lily said.

'Okay...' Greg hummed. Mycroft was watching him, but Maggie had her eyes on the TV.

' _That means birthday party, Greg,_ ' Lily said. ' _As in, a massive birthday party with alcohol that I'm allowed to drink legally_ .'

'You barely drink, though,' Greg pointed out. Neither did Molly, actually, and it wasn't just because she was usually the designated driver when she, Greg and Dimmock all went to a party. Aside from those colourful drinks that girls seemed to like, Molly and Lily never really drank anything other than flavoured Smirnoffs.

' _So what?_ ' Lily huffed. ' _I'm turning_ eighteen _, Greg,_ ' she said, like Greg had somehow forgotten that in the past forty seconds. ' _I_ have  _to have a few drinks on my eighteenth birthday_ .'

'Okay,' Greg repeated. 'So you're having a party?'

Mycroft perked up at that and kept his eyes on Greg as Lily said, ' _Hells yeah I am! Molly finally caved and Mum and Dad did, too._ '

'Really?' Greg asked. Molly and Lily's parents were pretty strict. They weren't  _bad_ parents, they just didn't want their daughters going out, drinking, and generally having fun. Plus they were pretty religious; they'd sent their girls to a Catholic high school, and Dimmock was never allowed in Molly's bedroom with the door closed. Alex wasn't allowed in Lily's, either. Greg had always wondered why their parents thought that Lily and Alex were dating. As far as he knew, they were only best friends. Hell, Lily had never seemed interested in  _anyone_ .

' _Yeah_ ,' Lily said.

'So... when and where?' Greg asked.

' _ So far the plan's to have a party March 27th, on our actual birthday, _ ' Lily said.

'That's more than a month away,' Greg said, and Lily huffed.

' _ Whatever, I just wanna make sure it's all planned properly and everyone can come _ ,' she said. ' _ So far I've invited you and Mycroft, Alex, Dimmock, BJ and Joe. I'm assuming that their girlfriends or whatever will come. _ '

'Mm,' Greg hummed. He wasn't sure if Joe was still dating that girl... Age, he remembered. And her friend, Wendy, had apparently had a crush on BJ, but Greg didn't know if they were actually dating. 'Anyway,' Greg said, 'what do you and Molly want for your birthday?'

' _ Buy Molly a pillow _ ,' Lily said.

Greg frowned. 'A pillow?'

' _ Yeah, she has all those small pillows on her bed, you know? Uh... throw pillows, I think they're called. _ ' Greg laughed. ' _ Anyway, I ripped that Union Jack pillow she has, and I've already bought her a new iPod for her birthday, so someone's gotta get it for her. _ '

'What's Dimmock getting her?' Greg asked and shoved some more shepherd's pie into his mouth.

' _ He got her  _ Pushing Daises _ on DVD _ ,' Lily said. ' _ He got her into the show or something, I dunno. Anyway, can you and Mycroft come? _ '

'Sure,' Greg shrugged a shoulder. 'I don't think we have anything planned. We'll get you and Molly a gift each.'

' _ If you get me a pillow I'll kill you, _ ' Lily declared.

Greg snorted. 'What if it has Castiel from  _ Supernatural _ on it?' he asked.

' _ Then I'll love you for ever _ ,' Lily said, making Greg laugh. They talked for a few more minutes before Lily hung up and Greg tossed his phone aside. His pie was cold, but still good, and he'd eaten another few forkfuls before he realised that Mycroft was staring at him.

'What?' he asked.

'I vaguely heard Lily shouting something about pillows,' Mycroft said.

'Oh, right,' Greg mumbled and swallowed his mouthful. 'Molly and Lily turn eighteen on March 27th. They're having a party.'

'And we're going?' Mycroft assumed.

'Mm,' Greg nodded. 'We're gonna get Molly a Union Jack pillow and Lily... something. Maybe something  _ Supernatural _ related. She likes Castiel.'

'We could probably buy something online,' Mycroft mused.

'Are you going to stay there the night, or do I have to pick you up?' Maggie asked, joining the conversation. 'I remember where Molly lives, and it's a bit far to walk, especially if you've been drinking.' Greg ducked his head, and his mum rolled her eyes. 'I  _ know  _ you're both going to drink, Greg.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg muttered. 'Um, I dunno, Lily made it sound like it was still in the planning stage. I'll let you know.'

Maggie nodded and went back to the movie they were watching- Greg had no idea what it was. Robert Downey Jr looked really young and Tommy Lee Jones was in it.

'Are we buying a joint present?' Mycroft asked.

Greg nodded slowly until realisation dawned. Then, he laughed.

'What?' Mycroft asked.

'I can't believe we're buying joint presents for our friends,' Greg giggled. Mycroft just raised an eyebrow. 'That's something old couples do,' Greg said. 'Or married couples.'

'We're a couple,' Mycroft pointed out, 'and they were your friends first.'

'They're still your friends,' Greg said.

Mycroft shrugged. 'We can buy them separate presents if you want, but I don't think I've known Molly and Lily long enough to buy them something they'll actually like.'

'No, I don't mind buying them something together,' Greg said, 'it's just funny, is all. I didn't think I'd ever be in a real relationship, let alone buying gifts for our friends together.'

Mycroft smiled at him and Greg grinned back. Maggie broke the moment by leaning over and ruffling Greg's hair, then Mycroft's. 'Aww, my babies are growing up.'

' _ Mum _ ,' Greg groaned while Mycroft chuckled into his shepherd's pie. Greg pouted and went back to his own food.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Gregory,' Dimmock said when Greg and Mycroft got to school on Monday.

'God, is that gonna become a thing?' Greg groaned.

Dimmock shrugged. 'It's what your boyfriend calls you.'

'My boyfriend can call me whatever he wants,' Greg said. 'He gives me nice orgasms in compensation.'

Dimmock wrinkled his nose and said, 'Ew,' and Greg slapped him over the back of the head. 'Anyway,' Dimmock said, 'I got into the University of London.'

Greg grinned. 'That's awesome!' he said, and this time slapped Dimmock on the shoulder.

'Yeah,' the older boy laughed. 'I just gotta get the right marks and I can take the Sociology course they offer.'

Greg was still smiling as he lit his cigarette, and Dimmock explained how Molly and Lily had gotten into Barts; they just had to get the right marks like Dimmock. Alex was going to London University with Dimmock, only she was studying English Literature.

When Mycroft nudged Greg's shoulder, Greg looked at him in confusion. Mycroft raised his eyebrows and pointed his cigarette at Dimmock, who watched the entire thing with an amused smile.

'What?' Greg finally said.

Rolling his eyes, Mycroft said, 'Why don't you tell your best friend about _your university_ plans?'

'Oh,' Greg said, ' _oh_ .' He shifted a bit and took a drag of his cigarette before saying, 'Uh... I got accepted to Oxford.'

Dimmock choked on his own cigarette and coughed rapidly, beating a fist against his chest. 'W-What?'

'I've just gotta get the marks and I'm in,' Greg said. 'Mycroft got an unconditional offer.'

Dimmock frowned in confusion. 'I'm going to Oxford no matter what,' Mycroft explained.

'Oh,' Dimmock said, 'wow.' Then he grinned. 'That's awesome, Greg,' he said. 'You get to study with Mycroft.'

'Yeah,' Greg smiled. Huh, Dimmock was still happy for him. Greg was glad. His mum had told him how she'd grown apart from her best friends when she'd left high school, and Greg didn't want that to happen with him and Dimmock; they'd been through too much to just toss their friendship away. Then again, Maggie hadn't graduated high school; she'd dropped out because she'd fallen pregnant with Greg.

'Lestrade!'

Greg looked up to see Sally rushing towards them, towing BJ and Joe after her.

Well, at least Sally wasn't calling him _Gregory_.

'Let me go, goddamn it!' BJ snapped when they reached Greg and the others. 'Jesus, we're not dating any more, you don't get to drag me around.'

Sally rolled her eyes and Greg said, 'What's up?'

'Did your acceptance letter from Oxford come yet?' Sally asked.

Greg nearly dropped his cigarette. 'What?' Sally raised an eyebrow. 'I... uh... how'd you know?' he finally demanded.

Sally rolled her eyes. 'I swear to God you lot think I'm an idiot or something.'

'I don't,' Joe piped in, then scowled and lit a cigarette when Sally flipped him off.

'I applied at Oxford, remember?' Sally reminded Greg.

Huh... he'd actually forgotten about that. Oops.

' _And_ I got an interview,' Sally continued, ' _and_ my acceptance letter came this morning.'

'Really?' Greg asked, and smiled when Sally nodded. 'That's awesome, Sal.'

'Hell yeah it is,' Sally grinned. 'I mean, I still have to get good grades, but  _hell yeah_ !'

Greg laughed and gave her a one-armed hug, then snickered when Sally hugged Mycroft, who spluttered and awkwardly patted her on the back. He shot Greg a “please help me” look that Greg, of course, ignored.

'What about you, Mr Genius?' Sally asked Mycroft.

'I got an unconditional offer,' Mycroft said.

Sally whistled, and BJ and Joe shared looks of confusion. 'What's that?' Joe asked.

Mycroft, once again, explained that he as going to Oxford University no matter what, while Sally asked Dimmock about his university plans.

Greg just watched them all and smoked his cigarette, blowing smoke above his head and watching it swirl away. His mind briefly wandered back to when Mrs Mallen had caught him smoking in the carpark. His mum had flipped and grounded him for two weeks, but Mycroft had kept sneaking into his bedroom.

Greg smiled. Crap, even way back then he'd been head over heels for Mycroft. Had it really been less than a year? Greg had known Mycroft longer, sure, but he hadn't known the _real_ Mycroft.

Sighing slightly, Greg finished his cigarette and flicked the butt onto the ground, grinding it with the toe of his leather shoe. He glanced around at his friends, who were still talking about their future plans. Soon they'd be taking their final exams, graduating, then they'd be kicked out into the world to forget all the crap they'd been taught over the past thirteen years.

'Greg?'

Greg shook his head and glanced at Dimmock. 'What?'

'Thinking hard there,' Dimmock mused, then smirked. 'Were you picturing Mycroft naked?'

'God, you're a dirty bastard, you know that?' Greg said.

'Why do you think we're friends?' Dimmock said. Greg laughed and tried to kick his mate, but Dimmock had years of practice under his belt and easily evaded his friend. 'Seriously, what the hell are you thinking about so hard at seven-thirty in the morning?'

'Nothin',' Greg shrugged. 'Just... the future, you know.'

'Uh-huh,' Dimmock said. 'You never used to think about the future. Just the next party.'

Greg snorted. 'Yeah... well, I guess I'm not the same person.'

'No, you're not,' Dimmock agreed. He raised his eyebrows when Greg looked at him. 'What?'

'Have I... changed a lot?' Greg asked.

Dimmock snorted. 'No,' he said and reached out to mess up Greg's hair- not that it needed much. Greg still refused to use any of the many, many products Mycroft bought on a monthly basis. 'You're still a weirdo. You still swear too much, smoke too much, and think about sex constantly.'

Greg scowled and swatted at Dimmock, but once again the older boy ducked out of the way.

'The changes are good, Greg,' Dimmock said. 'Seriously, don't worry about it.'

Greg sighed again. 'Sorry. I suppose I'm just thinking about all this crap 'cause in a few months we'll be done with high school.'

'Yeah,' Dimmock agreed, 'and you'll be off to Oxford, and I'll be going to London. Lily suggested that all of us get an apartment somewhere; you know, me, Molly, her and Alex.'

'Really?' Greg asked. 'What about student accommodation?'

'We'll see what happens,' Dimmock shrugged. 'I've still gotta pass all my exams with good marks.'

'You will,' Greg said.

'Easy for you to say, you have Mr Genius over there,' Dimmock muttered and pointed at Mycroft.

Greg looked at his boyfriend; the red-head was still talking to Sally, BJ and Joe.

'Is everyone calling him that behind his back?' Greg questioned.

'Sally does,' Dimmock said. 'And he  _is_ a genius, so, you know, it fits.'

'Yeah,' Greg agreed. The bell went before he could say any more, and Dimmock threw an arm around his shoulders.

'Cheer up, Greggie,' he said. 'If you fail your exams spectacularly, I'm sure Mycroft'll still want you to go to Oxford with him. You can be his boy toy. I bet he'll pay you and everything.

'Arsehole!' Greg shouted. Dimmock pushed off him and darted away, laughing as Greg chased after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** Ahh, high school. I still remember everybody freaking out about exams and the future. Which I probably should have done, seeing as how I'm currently unemployed and have no skills to speak of.
> 
> Only four more chapters to go, plus the epilogue. And, according to my computer, I've had the epilogue written since February 2013. I can't believe how long I've been writing this story, it's crazy.
> 
> Anywho, hopefully the next chapter comes as quickly as this one did (heheh).
> 
> {Dreamer}


	101. High School Never Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Title:** High School Never Ends by Bowling For Soup
> 
>  **Author's Note:** I am so very, very sorry for the long wait. I had half of this chapter written for ages, but the rest just wouldn't cooperate. Then my laptop died and took with it a lot of my stuff, including what I'd written. Luckily I've had the last few chapters of this story planned out for a while, so I was able to re-write this chapter on the laptop I'm borrowing from my brother. Thus, I finally updated! I hope you enjoy.
> 
> {Dreamer}

'I hate studying,' Greg grumbled.

'You've said that,' Dimmock commented from beside him. 'At least five times.'

'Seven,' Mycroft corrected.

Greg pouted and looked across the room at his boyfriend. Mycroft had commandeered their desk; he'd said that because he had more subjects to study for,  _ he  _ got the desk, leaving Greg and Dimmock on the bed.

'Stop pouting, Gregory,' Mycroft said without glancing up from his work.

'I hate you,' Greg muttered.

'You love me,' the red-head corrected.

Dimmock chuckled and Greg groaned as he looked down at his notes. 'Why the hell did I pick PE?' he complained.

'Um...' Dimmock hummed for a bit before slapping his book. 'Daniel Reed!'

'Daniel Reed?' Greg echoed.

'Yeah,' Dimmock nodded, 'remember? That really cute red-head who was in our year? He transferred to Brighton Academy at the beginning of last year.'

Greg blinked at him and Dimmock sighed.

' _ Anyway _ ,' he continued, 'Daniel Reed always said he wanted to be a professional rugby player, so he took PE and stuff. You took it 'cause you wanted to get into his pants.'

'What?' Greg gaped. 'No I didn't!' He couldn't even  _ remember  _ Daniel Reed.

'Yeah you did,' Dimmock smirked. 'You wanted Daniel and he was straight, but you took PE anyway just to stare at his arse in shorts.'

Greg scowled and pushed Dimmock's books out of his lap, grinning when Dimmock glared at him. 'Oops,' Greg muttered and went back to his notes.

'Arsehole,' Dimmock muttered as he collected his stuff.

'I can't believe you picked a subject because of a boy,' Mycroft said, still not looking up.

Greg pointed his pen at him. 'You shut your mouth!'

'I can't,' Mycroft laughed, 'it's just... adorable.'

'I am  _ not  _ adorable.'

'I beg to differ,' Mycroft hummed.

'Yeah,' Dimmock agreed, 'you can be _very_ adorable.'

'What is this, Pick On Greg Day?' Greg demanded.

'Perhaps,' Mycroft said.

'It's always Pick On Greg Day,' Dimmock murmured.

Greg ignored his best friend and looked at Mycroft. 'You seriously never picked a subject or activity because of a cute boy?'

Mycroft finally turned slightly to look at his boyfriend and raised an eyebrow. 'Gregory, I was a drug addict at fourteen; why do you think I tried cocaine?'

Greg blinked at him. 'Huh.' Beside him Dimmock shifted uncomfortably but didn't say anything. 'Well, besides that,' Greg continued, not wanting to dwell on Mycroft's old habit. 'Didn't you pick up, I dunno... French or mathematics or maybe even chess to impress a guy?'

'My mother's side of the family is French; I've been speaking it since I was five,' Mycroft said. 'I've been interested in mathematics since I was eight, and I taught myself and Sherlock how to play chess at six.'

'Oh my God, you are  _ such  _ a nerd,' Greg groaned.

Dimmock snorted. 'Only just figured that out?'

'Shut up,' Greg muttered.

'Dunno where you're coming from,' Dimmock said, 'you just got accepted into  _ Oxford _ , Greg; you're a nerd, too.'

'Am not.'

'Are too.'

'Am  _ not _ .'

'Are-'

'Stop before I make you both sit in the naughty corner,' Mycroft interrupted. Greg and Dimmock looked at him and Mycroft scowled, blue eyes narrowed. Greg wilted under the stare- that stare meant no sex, and Greg totally needed sex during exams!- and went back to his notes.

'Sorry, Mr Holmes, sir,' Dimmock muttered, which made Greg snicker, and Dimmock giggle, then both of them collapse into heaps of laughter.

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his eyes. 'I should have studied with Anthea.'

'It's not too late,' Dimmock said. 'Molly's studying with Lily and Alex, and I think Sally was gonna join them.'

'What about BJ and Joe?' Greg asked as he settled back against the wall, books on his lap.

'I dunno,' Dimock shrugged. 'BJ's hoping to get some type of sports scholarship, so I'm not sure if he's gonna bother studying. Joe's with his girlfriend.'

'Is he still dating that girl?' Greg questioned, and Dimmock nodded. 'What was her name... Amy... Annie... Abby?'

'Adrienne,' Mycroft corrected.

'Right!' Greg snapped his fingers. 'Hey, Mikey, why the hell are you studying?'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow and turned a page of his book. 'Because our final exams are coming up.'

'Yeah, but you have an eidetic memory,' Greg said, 'don't you, you know... memorise everything you read?'

'I memorise everything that I see, hear, and read every day,' Mycroft replied. 'And yes, I do have an eidetic memory. But I want to make sure that I've read the proper chapters and made the right notes. An eidetic memory doesn't help me if I copied things down incorrectly the first time.'

'Seriously?' Dimmock asked. 'You remember  _ everything _ ?'

'My earliest memory is of me at two-years-old listening to my father rant to a business associate about homosexuals,' Mycroft muttered. 'Though he used much more colourful language.'

'You dad's a dick,' Greg grunted. Mycroft smiled in amusement.

'Okay...' Dimmock said slowly, 'so can you remember the day you first met Greg? I mean at school, when you first started at Baker Street.'

'Yes,' Mycroft stated.

'So what was he wearing?' Dimmock asked.

'His school uniform,' Mycroft replied. 'The shirt was untucked, he wasn't wearing his tie, and he had orange socks on instead of the grey we're supposed to wear. You two were fighting,' he turned briefly to point between Greg and Dimmock, 'and Gregory bumped into me, making me drop my books. Sherlock snapped at him and Gregory said, “Hey, easy there. It was an accident.” Sherlock took an immediate dislike to you.'

'What?' Greg said. 'Why?'

'Because of how you treated me,' Mycroft said.

Greg frowned. 'But I wasn't mean... not yet, anyway. That started a few weeks later.'

'I'd been out of rehab for a week, Gregory,' Mycroft said. 'Sherlock was overprotective for a few months.'

Greg looked Mycroft over before smiling faintly, a gesture that Mycroft returned.

'Huh,' Dimmock said. 'I can't believe you remember all that. I can't.'

'It was almost four years ago,' Mycroft shrugged. 'It's not like it matters.'

'Matters to me,' Greg said. He smiled at his books, and Dimmock glanced at him.

'Why's it matter?' he asked.

''Cause,' Greg said.

'That's not a proper answer, Gregory.'

'Yes it is, Michael.'

Mycroft sighed.

'Come on, Greg,' Dimmock said and poked the brunette with his pen. 'Why's it so important?'

'Because,' Greg grunted, swatting at Dimmock's hand. He scowled at his best friend before saying, 'It matters 'cause that's when I met Mycroft, okay?'

Mycroft looked up from his books, eyebrows climbing in surprise. 'Excuse me?'

Greg groaned and flopped face-first onto the bed, uncaring of the books and pages he was crushing beneath his weight. When Dimmock poked him again he rolled over, smirking a bit when he knocked some of Dimmock's stuff onto the floor.

'That's the day I first met you, Mycroft,' he said, staring pointedly at the ceiling. 'I mean, I was a cocky bastard, and I started acting like a prick to you a couple days later, but still... that's the day you walked into my life.'

'Oh my God,' Dimmock grunted, but Greg ignored him; so did Mycroft.

'You care about that?' the red-head asked. 'It wasn't like you met the _real_ me.'

'Wasn't it?' Greg countered. 'You were... you'd just gotten out of rehab, right?'

'Yes.'

'So you weren't acting like your fake stuck-up self; that didn't start until a few weeks later, I remember. You went from being really quiet to being overly... I dunno, peppy, or something. Now that I think about it, it was probably 'cause you finally, you know, had your shit together.' He turned slightly to look at Mycroft, who was sitting sideways in his seat, eyes on Greg. 'That's when we first met,' Greg said softly, 'and I was an arsehole and you weren't completely yourself, but still... if we'd just had a  _real_ conversation, we coulda started dating then.'

Mycroft smiled softly and looked down at his socks, scuffing the right one across the carpet. 'What makes you think I would have dated you at fifteen?' he sniffed, but a smile was still playing at his lips.

Greg grinned cheekily. 'I'm totally lovable, Myc. I woulda won you over.'

'Oh, would you have?'

'Yup!' Greg beamed.

'Why am I here for this?' Dimmock muttered behind Greg. 'Seriously, you two are  _so_ sappy. Me and Molly aren't even this sappy and we've been dating since we were sixteen.'

'Shut up, Dimmo, you're ruining the moment!' Greg reached blindly behind himself to try and slap his best friend, but the older boy moved out of reach. 'You're right,' Greg said to Mycroft, finally giving up on hitting Dimmock. 'I was even more of an arsehole back then than I am now. You woulda dumped me in a day.'

'I wouldn't have agreed to date you without getting to know you first,' Mycroft said. 'Just because I had a  _massive_ crush on you doesn't mean I would have dated you.'

'Oh, yeah,' Greg said, 'I forgot about you fancying me.'

'Christ,' Dimmock grunted. 'Can we just study, please?'

'Shut up,' Greg repeated.

' _You_ shut up.'

' _You_ !'

'Children,' Mycroft interrupted. Greg rolled over to stick his tongue out at Dimmock, and when he sat up again Mycroft was leaning over the bed in front of him. 'I love you,' Mycroft said.

'I love you, too,' Greg replied. Then Mycroft leaned over to kiss him. Greg smiled against his mouth.

'I hate you both,' Dimmock sighed.

'Do not,' Greg and Mycroft mumbled together.

Dimmock snorted.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'I can't wait 'til I turn eighteen,' Greg sighed, tapping his pen against the library desk.

'Why?' Dimmock asked.

''Cause I can drink!' Greg said.

Dimmock snickered, and Lily said, 'Greggie, you drank at mine and Molly's party in March.'

'Well, yeah...' Greg said slowly, 'but when I'm eighteen I can go to the pub! Or a club that's not owned by my boyfriend.' Mycroft smiled. ' _And_ I can get smokes anywhere, instead of going to that creepy dude at the tobacconist.'

'He  _is_ creepy,' Dimmock muttered.

'Aren't we supposed to be studying?' Mycroft questioned without looking up from his notes. Greg, Dimmock, Lily and Molly all turned to look at him. Mycroft raised an eyebrow, which made Greg smile.

'Don't you ever take a break?' Dimmock asked.

'No,' Mycroft deadpanned. 'I study twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I have no time for trivial things such as rest and food.'

Greg laughed into his hand and Dimmock rolled his eyes. 'You're rubbing off on him, Greg,' Dimmock muttered.

'Yeah I am!' Greg shouted and jumped over the table to kiss his boyfriend, who grunted in annoyance and pushed Greg away. 'Aww, don't act like you don't love me,' Greg grinned.

'I knew you lot wouldn't be studying.'

Greg and Dimmock turned to see Sally and Anthea, the two carrying their school bags and various books under their arms.

'Mycroft's studying,' Anthea said. She grabbed one of the tables beside theirs and pushed it over, Sally grabbing two chairs.

'I'm  _trying_ to study,' Mycroft sighed.

'Greg's hard to study with,' Dimmock told him. 'He gets distracted a lot.'

'I like shiny things,' Greg said, grinning widely when Dimmock rolled his eyes.

'Gregory,' Mycroft interrupted. He tapped the brunette's book and Greg pouted.

'It's  _boring_ ,' Greg groaned.

'Yes,' Mycroft agreed, 'but you  _want_ to graduate sixth form, don't you?'

'Maybe,' Greg muttered.

'If I promise you sex, will you study?' Mycroft asked.

Sally snorted into a hand and Dimmock muttered, 'Oh, God,' under his breath. Greg hummed, head tilted as he thought.

'As if you're gonna say no to that, Greg,' Lily smirked at him.

'Yeah,' Greg sighed, 'you're right. Okay, people!' He clapped his hands together, earning glares from the various other students spread throughout the library. 'Studying!'

'That's what we've been  _trying_ to do,' Dimmock muttered.

'You're no fun,' Greg said. 'You  _do_ realise that this is the last time we'll hang out studying together, right?'

'If we get into Oxford it won't be,' Sally said.

'Well, yeah,' Greg agreed, 'but Dimmo, Molly, Lily and Alex aren't going to Oxford.'

'Neither will you if you don't  _study_ ,' Mycroft said.

Greg pouted at him. 'I thought you believed in me?'

'Gregory...'

'Okay, okay,' Greg muttered and hunched over his books. 'See? 'm studyin'.'

Nobody said anything, though Mycroft gave Greg a pointed look when Greg glanced across the table at him. Greg poked his bottom lip out, but Mycroft ignored him. Sighing slightly, Greg made an effort to focus on his books. It wasn't his fault that he'd never been good at studying. It was just so  _boring_ .

The group worked in silence for about five minutes before Lily suddenly said, 'Alex, what are you reading?'

' _Russian Roulette_ by Anthony Horowitz,' Alex replied.

'Is that... are you reading a  _novel_ ?' Lily demanded.

'Yes,' Alex murmured, and Greg glanced up to see the girl's eyes trained on a hardcover book that she'd opened over her notes.

'We're  _ studying _ , Al, not reading!' Lily said.

'Oh... really?' Alex asked. She glanced around the table, as though only  _ just  _ noticing that everybody had various textbooks and notes spread out before them.

'Stupid wombat,' Lily muttered.

'Say that again and I'll bite you,' Alex threatened.

'Ooh, wombat's wrath!' Lily grinned.

Mycroft sighed and rubbed his eyes.

'Hey, it wasn't me this time!' Greg said. He grinned when Mycroft scowled at him.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Hey, Mum?'

Maggie looked up from the bills she was going over. Her eyebrows rose when she realised that Greg was... hovering, for lack of a better word, in the kitchen doorway. 'Yes?'

'Can, um... you don't talk to any of the friends you had in high school, right?' Greg blurted after a rocky start. 'Or sixth form?'

'No, I don't,' Maggie said. 'I ran into one of them, Alice Wynd, when you were about six or seven.'

'Alice Wynd?' Greg echoed.

'Mm, we we were friends in sixth form,' Maggie said. 'Then I got pregnant with you, dropped out, and just... stopped talking to everyone. You tend to do that, after you finish school.'

'Yeah,' Greg mumbled.

'What's wrong, Greg?' Maggie asked. She pushed one of the chairs out with her foot and smiled when her son sat. 'Are you worried about exams?'

'Not really,' Greg said. 'Well, kinda, just a bit. But Mycroft's helping me study and keep calm.'

Maggie smiled. 'Good.'

'Yeah. I'm just worried that I'll stop talking to... Dimmock,' Greg admitted. 'He's my best friend but he's going to live in London and I'll be in Oxfordshire with Mycroft and... what if we stop talking?'

'Oh, Greg,' Maggie sighed. She put her pen down and leaned closer to him. 'Greg, most people stop talking to their school friends because they grow up and realise they have nothing in common. Most of the people you associate with now are only your friends because you share classes or a lunch period. When you get older you figure out who your real friends are. Like Michael.'

'Yeah?' Greg asked.

'You've been through a lot; I can't see either of you letting that friendship die,' Maggie said. 'Leaving high school and then sixth form can be terrifying, Greg, but it can also be freeing. University is completely different and you can study subjects you _like_ , rather than subjects that the government thinks you should memorise. And you'll be living in a dorm with Mycroft, _without_ your mother just around the corner.'

'Don't even joke about that!' Greg said, a smile tugging at his lips. 'I'm gonna miss you, Mum.'

'I know, sweetie,' Maggie smiled, 'and I'll miss you, too. And Mycroft. The house will feel empty without you two.'

'Yeah, but we'll visit,' Greg said. 'I promise.'

'You'd better,' Maggie chuckled. She reached over to brush Greg's hair from his face, and for once he let her, not fighting, just smiling. 'Just focus on your exams, Greg,' she advised. 'You know what you want to do when you're older, which is a lot more than some students have. You've got university sorted, you'll still be friends with Dimmock, and Mycroft will always have your back. You've got it real lucky, kiddo.'

'Yeah... I do,' Greg agreed.

'It's about time,' Maggie said and Greg laughed, but it sounded a bit wet, even to Maggie's ears. She sighed softly and brushed Greg's hair again. She couldn't believe that her little boy was almost all grown up. He had a steady boyfriend, he was about to graduate sixth form, and he was moving away from home for the first time. She really would miss him and Mycroft. 'You'll do great, Greg, no matter where you go and what path you choose,' Maggie told him. 'I'm proud of you.'

Greg sniffed, and that made Maggie sniff, and soon they were both out of their seats and clutching at each other, Greg's face buried in his mum's neck. Maggie still remembered a time, not that long ago, when Greg had barely been taller than her hip. He used to cling to her leg and she'd have to drag him around as she did house work, Greg giggling the entire time.

Now Greg was taller than her, had filled out a fair bit, and Maggie had to tilt her head up to kiss him on the forehead. 'Love you, kiddo.'

'Love you too, Mum,' Greg mumbled.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


It didn't surprise Greg that, when exams finally arrived, Mycroft kept his cool. Apart from waking up at weird hours to go over his notes for the five-hundredth time, Mycroft was pretty much his usual self. The same couldn't be said for their schoolmates, most of whom seemed to think that they were going to fail and then their lives would be over.

Greg didn't blame them, 'cause he felt the same. He was sure that he'd make a heap of stupid mistakes, fail all of his exams, and never get into Oxford. Then what would he do? Follow Mycroft to Oxfordshire, get some crappy job, and watch his boyfriend take over the world?

'I am _not_ going to take over the world,' Mycroft said for the tenth time that night, eyes glued to his mathematics notes. It was Mycroft's favourite subject, and seeing as how he wanted to study it further at Oxford, he was taking this exam more seriously than his others.

'Yeah you are,' Greg grumbled. 'This is the _one_ thing that me and Sherlock agree on. He said he's suspected you of global domination since he was six.'

Mycroft shook his head. 'Of _course_ that's what you and Sherlock agree on.'

'Hey, John agrees, too,' Greg muttered.

'When did you speak to Sherlock and John?'

'Um... I dunno, yesterday?' Greg said. Mycroft looked up to see Greg frowning at his book, a pen stuck behind one ear and a pencil in his right hand. 'Sherlock came over to see you but you had an exam. He and John stayed for a bit before your mum picked them up.'

'Hmm,' Mycroft murmured. 'Sherlock didn't text me. He usually does before coming over.'

'Yeah, well, he probably doesn't want any of us to realise that he's gonna miss you,' Greg said.

'Oh?'

The older boy nodded, eyes still on his work. 'He's obviously gonna miss you, Myc, but he's, you know... _Sherlock_.'

Mycroft smiled slightly. 'I have the feeling that Sherlock will visit us at Oxford quite a lot during our first year.'

'He'll probably crawl through our dorm window and scare the crap outta me,' Greg said. 'Not you, of course, 'cause you're awesome.'

Mycroft shook his head and turned back to his books. 'I think we should get a flat instead of a dormitory room,' he mused.

'Yeah?'

'There's no saying that we'll be rooming together,' Mycroft pointed out. 'Unless I donate money and ask nicely.'

'And by _ask nicely_ you actually mean _blackmail_ , right?' Greg asked.

Mycroft snorted lightly. 'I don't have any blackmail on anyone associated with Oxford.'

'Not _yet_ ,' Greg corrected.

Mycroft just hummed and tapped his pen lightly across the pages before him. He could feel Greg's eyes on him but didn't look up.

'Hey, Mycroft?' Greg asked after about a minute.

'Mm?'

'If I study any longer my brain's gonna die.'

'It is not.'

'It really is, you don't know that it won't!'

'I do, Gregory.'

'Nah-ah.'

'Yes.'

'Mycroft, you're not playing properly!'

Mycroft sighed. 'Ya-hah, Gregory,' he drawled.

'Oh my God, you suck!' Greg groaned. He flopped sideways onto their bed, scattering books and papers and various writing instruments. 'I hate exams!' he whined. 'Screw the government and whoever came up with the giant clusterfuck that is high school.'

Mycroft swivelled in his seat to look at Greg, red eyebrows climbing.

'What?' Greg muttered when he realised he had his boyfriend's attention.

'I think you _do_ need a break,' Mycroft mused.

'Really?' Greg asked, brown eyes wide with hope.

Mycroft nodded and stood, placing his pen on the desk and stretching. Greg sat up quickly but didn't move, just eyeing Mycroft carefully, like he thought the taller boy might suddenly change his mind.

'I believe that a hot shower will help you unwind,' Mycroft said.

'Okay...' Greg said slowly.

'We should share,' Mycroft said and walked towards the door. 'Save water, you know,' he added over his shoulder. He smirked when he heard Greg scramble off the bed, then curse when he stubbed his toe against the bed frame. Mycroft grinned and shed his shirt as he entered the bathroom, Gregory chasing after him.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Sherlock was a bastard, and Greg really, _really_ wished that he hadn't decided to visit _now_ , right in the middle of fucking exams. But Greg's mum had gone and let him into the house, John Watson following after him. Now Sherlock and John were sitting on the floor going through Greg's stuff- well, Sherlock was going through Greg's stuff, and John was making sure that Sherlock wasn't gonna break anything.

Mycroft had once again commandeered his and Greg's desk, meaning Greg had to spread his stuff out on the bed. Actually, Greg supposed that he should just call it  _Mycroft's desk_ . It wasn't like he ever used the bloody thing.

'This is your future, kids,' Greg muttered, gesturing first to the dark bags beneath his eyes, then to the large coffee cup he had clutched to his chest. Bless Maggie Lestrade and her ability to know exactly when Greg needed a cappuccino.

'No it isn't,' Sherlock sniffed.

'And what's that?' Greg asked.

'I'm a genius and you aren't,' Sherlock stated. 'Therefore I'll find the exams much easier and pass with much better marks.'

Greg narrowed his eyes at the fourteen-year-old, who just stared back at him, blue eyes ice cold. 'That hurts, Sherlock,' Greg eventually said. 'You know, one day we're gonna be brother-in-laws, we'll be _family_.'

Sherlock blinked at him slowly, and John glanced between the two while Mycroft shuffled his notes around.

'What,' Sherlock eventually said.

'I'm totally gonna marry your brother,' Greg said, because  _duh_ , of course he was! 'And then me and you'll be related. Through  _marriage_ .'

'No,' Sherlock said.

'Yes,' Greg smiled.

'No,' Sherlock repeated, but this time it was a whine. 'Mycroft, no, you can't marry Lestrade!'

'I can and I will if I choose to do so in the future,' Mycroft muttered, not looking up.

'No!' Sherlock shouted. Greg just grinned at him, so the younger Holmes rounded on John. 'John, tell them they can't get married!'

'Er... well, they kinda can't, at least not yet,' John tried. 'I mean, unless they go to America. Or, um... another country were same-sex couples can get married.'

'Ha!' Sherlock shouted in triumph. 'See, Lestrade? You can't get married!'

'You really think that same-sex marriage won't be legal in England by the time me and Mycroft are twenty-five?' Greg asked, raising his eyebrows.

Sherlock stared at him for a beat before swearing loudly.

'Sherlock,' Mycroft sighed, finally turning to look at his brother. Sherlock wilted slightly under Mycroft's stare. 'Please,' Mycroft said, 'Gregory and I have been studying for what feels like three years at this point. We only have a few more exams left. I know that you miss me and that you're bored. But _please_ try and rein yourself in for a short time so we can finish going over our notes. I'll take you out for an entire day this Saturday, okay?'

Sherlock frowned at him a bit before asking, 'Really?'

'Yes,' the elder Holmes nodded, 'I promise. My last exam is this Friday and Gregory's is the following Monday. He'll be busy studying with Dimmock, so you'll have me all to yourself.'

Sherlock turned to Greg with a triumphant look on his face, making Greg roll his eyes. He turned back to his notes, but caught Sherlock poking his tongue out at him. Greg snorted.

'You're such a child,' John sighed.

'But you love me anyway,' Sherlock said.

Greg perked up at that. Wait, had they exchanged “I love you”s already?

John was smiling at Sherlock, and Sherlock looked adorable; all squirmy and red-cheeked.

'Yeah,' John said, 'I do.'

Sherlock scrambled across Greg and Mycroft's CD collection to plant a kiss on John's mouth, which made John laugh but kiss him back. Greg glanced at Mycroft, who was smiling, eyes back on his books.

Greg grinned and looked back down at his own textbook, which had become a mess of highlighter and handwritten notes in the past few days. Wow, Sherlock and John sure moved fast. Or maybe Greg was just really slow when it came to telling Mycroft how he felt. It  _had_ taken him weeks to get up the courage to ask Mycroft out properly.

God, had that really only been just a few short months ago?

Shaking his head, Greg pushed it all from his mind to focus on his upcoming exam. He could think about his and Mycroft's  _awesome_ relationship when his brain didn't feel like it was going to explode.


	102. "The Takeover, The Breaks Over"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Title:** “The Takeover, The Breaks Over” by Fall Out Boy
> 
>  **Author's Note:** I have a very good reason for this chapter taking me two months to write; I was walking down the street and an ALIEN SPACESHIP BEAMED ME ABOARD AND SPOCK WAS THERE AND HE DECLARED ME ILLOGICAL AND I WAS FORCED TO FIGHT FOR MY LIFE AGAINST GIANT SPACE BUGS AND MOTHS THAT HAD LASER EYES AND SERIOUSLY, I'M NOT MAKING THIS UP, IT TOTALLY HAPPENED!
> 
> … so, what actually happened was real life in general, and then cramps, and I currently have a cold so that's why I'm being weird. I always get colds in summer; it sucks.
> 
> In other news, the next chapter should be up soon. I've written most of it, just gotta add a sex scene ;)
> 
> Anywho, enjoy!
> 
> Dreamer

When Maggie got home after a double shift at the hospital she found Greg passed out on the couch. She raised her eyebrows and wandered over to tap her son on the head. Greg groaned, and when she tapped him again he swiped half-heartedly at her head and grumbled, 'Leave me 'lone.'

'What are you doing on the sofa, Greg?' she asked.

Greg mumbled something.

'What was that? Use your words, honey, I know I taught them to you a fair few years ago.'

Greg sighed and rolled over just far enough for his voice to be heard; 'Exam's over. Finished Sociology 'bout an hour ago. Done now; sleepin'.' With that he rolled back over, buried his face in one of the cushions, and went silent.

Maggie watched him for a beat before smiling in amusement and heading into the kitchen. Mycroft was sitting there pouring over various notes, cards, and textbooks. He looked up briefly to smile at her before going back to work.

'Well okay, then,' Maggie hummed.

'I thought that I should stay out here and make sure that Gregory doesn't try to smother himself,' Mycroft said.

Maggie chuckled. 'Good idea. I wouldn't want him to get through all his exams only to accidentally smother himself.'

Mycroft threw her a small, amused smirk, before his eyes once more drifted down to his notes.

'What exams do you and Greg have left?' Maggie asked.

'I have Mathematics and French,' Mycroft answered, 'and Gregory only has Biology. I'm just going over my Maths notes.'

'Okay,' Maggie said. 'Is there anything to eat in the fridge, or should I make something?'

'Gregory made lasagne before his exam; it's in the fridge,' Mycroft replied without looking up.

Maggie smiled; that was her son, always looking out for others. She busied herself with dishing a plate up, and then doing the same for Mycroft when he started sniffing and looked up at her, blue eyes wide with hope. She laughed softly to herself; Mycroft and Greg had a fair bit in common- being adorable, charming buggers one of them. Which she was reminded of when the smell of hot lasagne drew Greg into the kitchen, humming and scratching a hand through his hair.

'Here you go, boys,' Maggie said and put the two plates out.

'Thanks, Mum,' Greg grinned at her while Maggie went to make herself up another plate.

'So, Greg, your exams are almost over, right?' Maggie asked as she worked,

'Mmf,' Greg mumbled through his mouthful before swallowing. 'Yeah. Mycroft's got Maths and French tomorrow and I've got Biology on Monday. After that we're both done.'

'Mm,' Maggie hummed.

'Why?' Greg asked.

'Your birthday's in a week,' Maggie said.

Greg blinked slowly at her, looked at his plate, then frowned. 'Huh.'

'Huh?' Maggie echoed.

'I forgot,' Greg admitted, smiling sheepishly when Maggie laughed at him. 'I've had a lot on my mind!' he defended.

'I know,' Maggie said. She reached over to pat his head, ignoring the scowl Greg sent her way. 'I was just wondering if you wanted to do anything. You _are_ turning eighteen, after all.'

'Yeah,' Greg murmured. He tilted his head as he thought and ran his fork over the cheese topping his lasagne. 'I suppose I should do something.'

'Do you  _want_ to do something?' Maggie repeated.

'Yeah,' Greg said, nodding. 'I wanna have a party- just my friends, though. Dimmock, Molly, Lily, Alex, Sally, Anthea, Joe, BJ, and anyone they're dating, I suppose.'

'Okay,' Maggie nodded, 'I have tomorrow off so I'll go to Tesco, get some party food. What cake do you want?'

'Chocolate!' Greg shouted, making Mycroft wince and reach up to touch his ear. 'Sorry,' Greg grinned. 'I love chocolate cake.'

'So I've gathered,' Mycroft drawled.

Greg's grin widened. 'I actually like chocolate cupcakes more, but Mum got me a heap for my thirteenth birthday and I ate 'em all. I was sick for the rest of the night. Only Dimmock stuck around, but that was mostly to make fun of me.'

Maggie shook her head. 'Tell you what, Greg. I'll make a batch of chocolate cupcakes just before your birthday; you can eat them over a few days.' She pointed her fork at him. ' _Over a few days, Greg_ . Not five in ten minutes.'

Greg smiled, unperturbed.

Sighing, Maggie turned to Mycroft, who beat her to it; 'I'll watch him to ensure he doesn't eat his body weight in cupcakes.'

Greg pouted as he said, 'It's like you two don't  _trust_ me or somethin'.'

'When it has to do with chocolate cupcakes, no, I don't,' Maggie said. 'I learned from your thirteenth birthday, Greg.'

Greg poked his tongue out at her and dove back into his lasagne. After a few bites he looked back at her. 'Hey, Mum, can you buy some party invitations?' Maggie raised her eyebrows at him. 'BJ and Joe always forgot when to get here and Molly and Lily probably won't be allowed to come if there isn't a proper invitation sayin' you'll be here all night,' Greg explained. Every party Molly had gone to with Greg and Dimmock had been because her parents were out of town or having a date night. That and Lily had covered for her whenever their parents got home early.

'Any particular invitations?' Maggie asked. 'Want some with glitter, or pirates, or...?'

'Har-har,' Greg rolled his eyes. 'I dunno, just your average, run of the mill invites. I don't care if they have bloody unicorns on them.' Mycroft snorted at the thought and Greg looked at him. 'I was thinking we could invite Sherlock and John.'

Mycroft jolted at that and looked up at Greg with wide eyes. 'We?'

'Well... yeah, we  _live_ together,' Greg said, 'therefore we're both throwing the party and inviting people, etcetera.'

Mycroft blinked. 'Sherlock and John?'

'Yes,' Greg said, smiling in amusement. 'I figured Sherlock would like to spend some time with you, and John can keep Sherlock occupied if you wanna talk to anyone else. Plus we could, like, get Mrs Hudson to bring them, that way Mum has someone to talk to- OH!' He turned back to Maggie, who'd been watching with a small smile. 'You can invite Doctor Phil and Shawn and Maddy, too. Then you can talk to Phil and maybe watch Harry? Shawn and Maddy probably don't get a lot of time off from parenting.'

Maggie just smiled and nodded. Sometimes she couldn't believe how much Greg had matured. Last year he'd thrown a massive party, gotten wasted, and passed out in the backyard with Joe and Dylan. Now he was willing to invite a heap of people to his eighteenth just so that his mum and boyfriend would be happy.

'You're a good kid, Greg,' Maggie said, nudging Greg's leg under the table.

'Well,  _duh_ ,' Greg rolled his eyes. Maggie chuckled. 'But I'm gonna be eighteen, remember? An  _adult_ .'

'Mm-hmm,' Maggie hummed.

'I am!' Greg whined.

'Of course you are, Gregory,' Mycroft said. He patted him on the head for good measure and Greg swatted at him, scowling when his boyfriend chuckled.

'I hate you both,' Greg announced.

'Do not,' Mycroft and Maggie replied at the same time. They smiled at each other while Greg pouted.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Dimmock found Greg sitting at smokers' corner, his back to the brick wall and a cigarette between two fingers.

'What are you doing here?' Dimmock asked.

Greg looked up at him. 'How'd _you_ know I was here?' he countered.

'A hunch,' Dimmock shrugged. When Greg didn't respond, Dimmock pulled his bag off and sat beside his best friend. 'What's up?'

'Exams are over,' Greg said. He had a stupid smile on his face, one that Dimmock couldn't help but mirror. After seven years of secondary education, they were finally  _done._ In a few weeks they'd find out if they'd passed or not. If they had, Greg would be going to Oxford; Dimmock to the University of London.

'Yeah,' Dimmock finally murmured. 'It's kind of... weird.'

'I know,' Greg agreed. He took a drag of his cigarette and blew smoke above his head; Dimmock watched it curl through the air. 'I'm looking forward to university,' Greg continued, 'you know, if I get in.' Dimmock nodded. 'But I'm kinda freaking out, too.'

'I know,' Dimmock echoed with a light laugh. 'Moving away from home and being an  _adult_ . Not sure I'm ready.'

'Who's bright idea was it to make eighteen-year-olds go out into the wide world by themselves as adults?' Greg demanded.

Dimmock smirked. 'Well, you're not eighteen  _yet_ .'

'I am in, like, five days.'

'True,' Dimmock hummed. He slouched further against the brick wall and picked at the hem of his t-shirt. 'I'm gonna miss my dad,' he said slowly, 'but at the same time I'm gonna love living with Molly. And Lily and Alex, if we can find a flat big enough.'

'So you're all definitely moving in together?' Greg asked.

Dimmock shrugged. 'Me and Molly definitely are; we can't afford a flat in London alone, though, which is why Lily's coming with us. And Alex, too, it's not like she and Lily are gonna stay apart, they're practically sisters.'

'Yeah,' Greg laughed. 'God, imagine if Lily and Alex had grown up together?'

'I don't  _wanna_ imagine it,' Dimmock said and Greg snorted. 'Anyway, if we can only afford a two bedroom flat, Lily and Alex said they'd share. Which, you know...'

'That'll be interesting,' Greg grinned.

'Tell me about it,' his best friend mumbled. 'What about you and Mycroft? Rooming on campus or getting a flat?'

'Mycroft wants to get a flat,' Greg said. 'He can afford it, and I'm hoping I can get a job somewhere to help out. Mycroft doesn't wanna room with anyone else, and neither do I.'

'Makes sense,' Dimmock mused. 'So you'll go from living with your mum and Mycroft to just living with Mycroft.'

'Don't remind me!' Greg groaned and shoved him. He sucked back on his cigarette and mumbled, ''M gonna miss my mum.'

'Yeah,' was all Dimmock said. They fell into silence for a bit, staring across the grass and paths between them and the car park. Dimmock tilted his head as he looked over his car, just visible parked beside Greg's bike. 'Hey,' Dimmock said.

'Mm?' the younger boy hummed.

'We should get together every, like, month, once we're at university,' Dimmock said. Greg raised his eyebrows. 'We can drink in one of our flat's and just watch movies and stuff.' He paused. 'Well, you can get wasted and jump your boyfriend in the corner.'

Greg laughed but nodded. 'Yeah, that sounds good,' he said. 'The get together, not the humping!' he snapped when Dimmock snickered. 'Although...' he added, giving Dimmock a dirty grin.

Dimmock shook his head and nudged him again. 'I think it'll all work out, Greg,' he said. 'And if it doesn't, our parents are still here; I mean, my dad would be pissed if I dropped out of university, but I don't think he'd disown me.'

'He would if you and Molly broke up and you met some hot young stud in London,' Greg offered.

'Shut your face,' Dimmock huffed, punching the brunet in the arm when Greg giggled. 'Anyway,' he continued after a beat, 'it'll all be fine. You studied your arse off, you'll definitely get in.'

'Yeah?' Greg asked

'Yeah,' Dimmock nodded firmly.

Greg smiled. 'Okay,' he said. 'And you'll get in, too. We'll both be cops one day and work together. We'll bring down drug rings and human trafficking and help little old ladies cross the street.'

Dimmock snorted but nodded along. That didn't sound like a bad future, he supposed. 'We'll do that while Molly and Lily work in forensics or at some hospital somewhere. Alex will write crime books about the guys we bring down, and Mycroft will slowly take over Britain.'

'Then, the world!' Greg shouted and tossed his burnt-out cigarette away.

Dimmock laughed and said, 'Exactly.' Greg tossed an arm over his shoulders and squeezed tightly. It reminded Dimmock of the first time he'd met Greg. God, they'd been so young and  _small_ . Greg had walked right up to Dimmock, plopped down next to him, and declared his last name  _super awesome_ . He'd refused to call Dimmock by his first name, and soon enough everyone was calling him Dimmock; hell, even most of the teachers called him by his surname.

Dimmock smiled as he went through various memories of growing up with Greg Lestrade; Greg's dad walking out, Dimmock losing his mum, Greg coming out, the two sleeping together, Dimmock dating Molly and Greg worrying about his feelings for Mycroft... they'd known each other for over ten years, more than half of their lives... and now here they were, finished with sixth form and about to go off to university.

_Time flies_ , Dimmock thought.

'Hey, Dimmo,' Greg said.

'Mm?'

'When we meet up once a month, I don't have to bring alcohol, right?'

'No,' Dimmock said. 'But if you're hosting it you gotta provide the drinks.'

'What? No way!' Greg huffed.

'Oh, so you just want free alcohol no matter where we meet?' Dimmock asked.

'Yup,' Greg grinned.

'You're an arsehole.'

'I'm wounded!' Greg pouted and put a hand to his chest.

Dimmock couldn't help it; he cracked up laughing. Greg blinked at him slowly, staring like Dimmock was insane, before he shrugged and leaned back against the wall. Dimmock just kept laughing. It was either that or cry. He really didn't want sixth form to end, didn't want anything to change.

But he couldn't stop it. Things  _had_ to change. Dimmock giggled and wiped his eyes, looked at Greg who was once more staring across the school.

_It'll be okay,_ Dimmock told himself.  _It'll be okay._

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'What are you doing?'

Greg jumped and whirled around, hiding one hand behind his back. 'Nothin'.'

Mycroft didn't look convinced and walked further into the kitchen. 'Gregory...'

'I'm not doing anything, I swear!' Greg lied.

'Gregory,' Mycroft sighed. He folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow.

And waited.

Waited.

Waited just a little bit longer...

'Fine!' Greg snapped and pulled the cupcake from behind his back. 'I wanted a cupcake.'

_There we go_ , Mycroft thought with a smile. 'Gregory,' he said aloud, 'Margaret told you-'

'I've only had one today!' Greg whined.

'And you wanted to have three over the entire day of your birthday,' Mycroft said. 'Which is tomorrow.'

'Why are you all being mean to me?' Greg demanded. 'I'm the birthday boy!'

' _Tomorrow_ you're the birthday boy,' Mycroft reminded him. 'Today you're just your usual self.'

Greg smiled. 'My usual  _awesome_ self, right?'

Mycroft laughed and crossed the distance between them to kiss his partner. While Greg was distracted, Mycroft plucked the chocolate cupcake from his hands.

'Hey!' Greg snapped.

'How about  _I_ eat it, and you can have some?' Mycroft asked.

Greg eyed him carefully. 'Well...' Mycroft took a bite of the cupcake, making sure to get chocolate frosting all over his lips. He licked the corner of his mouth and hummed, and had to bite back a smile when Greg's eyes narrowed.

'Would you like some?' Mycroft asked. He didn't give Greg a chance to reply- he grabbed the older boy by the shirt and dragged him forward, crushing their lips together.

Greg groaned at the contact, then groaned again when his tongue flicked out to lick chocolate frosting from Mycroft's plump lips. They kissed for a few minutes- or an hour, Mycroft honestly wasn't too sure- before they broke apart for air. Both breathing heavily, Greg eyed Mycroft and then the cupcake, as though wondering if he could take Mycroft down.

'Don't even think about it,' Mycroft said. Greg swore quietly and Mycroft smirked. 'How about you watch me finish this cupcake in our bedroom?' Mycroft said and started backing away. Greg stared at him. Turning in the doorway, Mycroft headed down the hallway. 'Your mother's spending the night with Phillip, remember?'

He heard Greg chase after him, the older teen bashing into the kitchen doorway on his way and cursing up a storm. Mycroft just laughed as he walked into their bedroom.


	103. Let Yourself Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Chapter Title:** Let Yourself Go by Green Day

Everybody who'd been invited to Greg's eighteenth birthday party had turned up except for Doctor Phil, Maddy and Shawn. Doctor Phil had to work, and baby Harry was sick so Maddy and Shawn were stuck at home taking care of him. Everyone else had invaded Maggie's house, though, and Greg thanked them all, hugged them when they produced envelopes or brightly wrapped packages.

Greg opened each gift as he received it and had to laugh when BJ gave him a bunch of different flavoured lubes and condoms just like he had on Christmas. Sherlock had gotten him a rock, but it was shot through with various blues and greens, so it was pretty awesome. Mrs Hudson had given Greg a large chocolate cupcake and Greg wolfed it down before his mum or Mycroft could stop him. It was delicious.

There was alcohol and soft drinks and party food, and Maggie was busy in the kitchen cooking chicken and macaroni and cheese and making salad for anyone who wanted something substantial to eat. Age and Wendy, Joe and BJ's dates, were in the kitchen with her, as was Mrs Hudson. Sherlock and John had camped out under the kitchen table for reasons Greg didn't want to investigate, and everybody else was spread throughout the living room with drinks and snacks in their hands.

'Wow, this is _awesome_ ,' Greg breathed when he opened Joe's present.

'Age drew it,' Joe said, smiling when Greg looked at him.

' _Awesome_ ,' Greg declared again. She'd sketched him a picture of Green Day, a still from their music video for _Holiday_ , one of Greg's favourite songs. The frame was dark green, the picture about A5 in size. 'Age, you're awesome!' he shouted through the house, making Mycroft wince beside him.

'I know!' Age shouted back. Greg laughed.

'Food's ready!' Maggie called and more than half of the guests raced into the kitchen. Greg stayed where he was and Mycroft kissed his cheek.

'What?' Greg asked.

'I'm glad you're happy and having a good time,' Mycroft said. Greg smiled. 'Now, have you eaten anything besides chocolate cupcakes today?'

'Yes!'

Mycroft raised an eyebrow.

'I had breakfast, remember?' Greg said. ''Cause you gave me a birthday blowjob and said no more unless I ate breakfast, so I had scrambled eggs and toast!'

'Which you ate less than half of,' Mycroft pointed out. Greg pouted. 'Gregory...'

'I ate!' Greg whined, but Mycroft just continued to stare at him. 'Fine!' he huffed and stood. 'I hate you.'

'You do not,' Mycroft said as he followed Greg into the kitchen.

'Do.'

' _Don't_.'

' _Do_.'

'Stop being adorable and eat something,' Maggie said from the doorway.

The couple flushed as the people around them laughed and whistled. Sherlock's head popped up from beneath the table-cloth that had been thrown over the kitchen table.

'I want popcorn, Lestrade,' he said.

'Jesus!' Greg near-shouted. 'Scared the crap out of me, Sherlock.'

Sherlock's eyes narrowed. 'Popcorn.'

'It's _my_ birthday.'

'I don't care.'

'Sherlock,' Mycroft sighed.

'Don't worry, I'll get his popcorn,' John said as he crawled from beneath the table. Sherlock beamed at him. 'But you won't get any if you keep being a little bastard to everyone,' John added.

Sherlock pouted. 'But _Jawn_.'

'No,' John said.

Sherlock's pout deepened and Greg turned away to hide his snicker. When he got control of himself he found a large plate of food being pushed into his hands courtesy of his boyfriend. It wasn't that Greg didn't _like_ the food; there was chicken and salad and crisps and popcorn and all kinds of yummy stuff. But Greg had a serious problem when it came to chocolate cupcakes, or just chocolate cake in general, and he wanted more, damn it!

Mycroft shook his head and Maggie said, 'Eat some proper food and you can have another cupcake.'

'You and your cupcakes,' Dimmock chuckled.

'Shut it,' Greg said. He and Mycroft followed Dimmock back into the living room. Lily and Alex were playing with Greg's CD player in the corner, while Joe and BJ were snickering about something on the floor, half-drunk bottles of beer in their hands. 'It's my birthday,' Greg maybe, kinda, most _definitely_ whined as he flopped onto the sofa. 'You're all supposed to be nice to me!'

'We are being nice,' Mycroft said, sitting beside him.

'Yeah,' Dimmock said, taking the other side, 'we wanna make sure you don't have a chocolate-induced heart attack before you turn nineteen.'

'Bastards,' Greg grunted, but shoved some chicken and potato bake into his mouth. 'Oh my God, this is delicious!' he moaned and swallowed quickly. 'Mum, your potato bake is the best!'

Mycroft sighed and shook his head, but gave Greg a fond look when Greg held his fork out for him, urging the red-head to try the potato bake. Dimmock snickered beside them, but the couple didn't pay attention.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg had eaten about half the food on his plate when _How Do We Know?_ by The Living End started playing. He hummed along as he popped pickles into his mouth, chewing and mumbling the lyrics at the same time. When that song ended there was a short pause before _Let Yourself Go_ by Green Day started. Greg dropped his plate of food- Dimmock narrowly avoiding getting a lap-full of salad- and bounced up and onto his feet. Mycroft grunted as he was dragged up, his boyfriend immediately clinging to him.

'Gregory, what are you-'

'Shut your mouth 'cause you're talkin' too much and I don't give a damn _anywaaay_!' Greg sang loudly, cutting Mycroft off and making the genius roll his eyes. 'You always seem to be steppin' in shit and all you really do is _complaain_! It's your lie, tell it how you like! Small minds tend to think _aliiike_! Shut your mouth 'cause you're talkin' too much, and I don't give a fuck _anywaaay_!'

Mycroft shook his head as Greg started jumping and down, screaming out the chorus. A fair few people were looking their way but all the party-goers knew Greg; they'd seen him act like a lunatic when his favourite songs were playing.

'Let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo-ooo_!' Greg sang that four times before jumping up and down and practically shrieking, 'Gotta let it go, gotta let it go! Gotta let it go, gotta let it go!'

He was tugging on Mycroft's shirt, arms, and neck, making Mycroft sway and stumble. 'Gregory!'

'Cut the crap 'cause you're screamin' in my ear and you're takin' up all of the _space_! You're really testing my patience again and I'd rather get punched in the face!' Greg hollered. 'You're gettin' on my every last nerve! Everything you've said I've already heard! I'm sick to death of your every last breath, and I don't give a fuck _anywaay_!

'Oh God,' Mycroft groaned as Greg wrapped himself firmly around his body.

'Let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo-oo_!Let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo-oo_!'

Mycroft tried to ignore him, really he did, but Greg was like a supernova when he listened to his favourite songs. The guitar solo started and Greg seemed to become possessed, jumping, wiggling his body, and grinning manically at Mycroft as he "danced"- at least Mycroft _assumed_ Greg was dancing.

Suddenly Greg moved even closer, crushing his body against Mycroft's and hissing in his ear.

'Always fuck-fuckin' with my head now... always fuck-fuckin' with my head now... always fuck-fuckin' with my head now... always fucking with my head and I gotta let it _goo_ , let yourself _goo,_ let yourself _goo-oo_!'

Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg's body and quickly ducked, twisting himself away and pushing Greg back at the same time. Greg ended up with his back to Mycroft's chest, his boyfriend's arms wrapped firmly around his waist.

That didn't stop him, of course, and everyone watched in amusement as Greg tried to break free, Mycroft holding him tightly.

'Gregory, stop it!' Mycroft snapped when Greg almost headbutted him.

'Let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo-oo_!'

Mycroft narrowly avoided another injury.

'Let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo-oo_!'

_At least it's almost over_ , Mycroft thought.

'Let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo-oo_!' Greg shouted.

_I heard you the first time,_ Mycroft thought as he scowled at the other teen.

'Let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo-oo_!' Greg was definitely screaming now.

'God, I love Greg,' Dimmock grinned.

'Let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo-oo_!'

Molly giggled.

'Let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo_ , let yourself _goo-oo_!'

BJ and Sally both snorted as Greg managed to twist in Mycroft's arms again.

'LET YOURSELF _GOO_ , LET YOURSELF _GOO_ , LET YOURSELF _GOO-OO!_ ' Greg shouted before tugging Mycroft against him. Mycroft finally lost his footing and went tumbling forward as Greg fell back. They ended up sprawled on the floor as the song ended, Greg panting heavily and Mycroft groaning, pain shooting up his elbow.

'Fuck you,' Mycroft growled.

'Aww, you _do_ love me!' Greg beamed. He wrapped his arms and legs around his partner before crushing their lips together, snogging Mycroft in the middle of the sitting room with their friends and family watching.

Dimmock whistled and BJ and Joe started clapping, the latter shouting, 'Bravo, Gregory!'

'Stellar performance!' Anthea added.

Molly and Dimmock giggled together as Mycroft tried to wrench himself free. It took him only seconds to elbow Greg in the gut, the birthday boy grunting and doubling over.

' _Oww_!' Greg moaned.

'Serves you right,' Mycroft snapped as he sat up.

'But it's my birthday!' Greg whined, pouting when Mycroft glared at him.

'I don't care,' Mycroft growled as he sat up and straightened his clothes. Greg continued to pout until he realised what song was playing. A grin spread across his face and Mycroft groaned. 'Oh, no.'

'And there's nothing wrong with me!' Greg sang.

'Yes there is!' Mycroft shouted.

'This how I'm supposed to _bee_ -'

'Gregory,' Mycroft sighed.

'- in a land of make _belieevee_ , that don't believe in _meee_!' Greg bounced to his feet and started jumping again. Mycroft sat back on the floor and rolled onto his back, groaning and covering his face while Greg shouted out the lyrics to _Jesus of Suburbia_. Everyone else laughed.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Mycroft, what are you doing?' Greg asked for the second time. Mycroft closed the bedroom door behind them, cutting off the sounds of music and people talking. 'Mycroft?'

'I wanted to give you your gift,' Mycroft said.

Greg smiled. This morning- and throughout the day, really- Mycroft had said that Greg would get his gift later. 'Is it sex?' he asked, chuckling when Mycroft's eyes narrowed on him.

'No,' the younger teen said, 'but if you're a good boy you'll get that later.'

'Yay!' Greg cheered and clapped like a small child, which made Mycroft laugh. 'So what is it?'

Still laughing, Mycroft bent down to retrieve Greg's present... from beneath the bed.

'That wasn't there earlier,' Greg grumbled.

'And how would you know that?' Mycroft queried as he stood back up.

Greg flushed lightly and scratched a hand through his hair. 'Um...'

'I hid it in your mother's room before moving it here earlier,' Mycroft revealed. Greg pouted at him. Mycroft sat on the bed and Greg joined him, the red-head smiling softly. 'Happy birthday, Gregory,' he said and handed the present over. 'I hope you like it.'

'Doesn't matter what it is,' Greg said with complete honesty. Mycroft just smiled and watched as Greg tore the perfectly-wrapped present apart. The box wasn't overly large, and it dropped into Greg's lap when he'd tossed the wrapping-paper aside. Greg blinked at the box slowly, wondering if he was imagining things. He picked it up... shook it, just a bit.

'Is this...' Greg blinked again. 'Mycroft, you bought me a _phone_?!'

'Yes,' Mycroft said. He shifted nervously on the bed. 'Do you like it?'

'I... well,  _yeah_ ,' Greg breathed. It was a Samsung Galaxy s4, the box saying that the colour was “Red Aurora”; Greg wondered what was wrong with just plain “red”, but whatever. 'How much did you pay for this thing?'

'It doesn't matter,' Mycroft said, shaking his head. 'You've needed a new mobile for a while, Gregory. The screen on your old phone is cracked, the battery keeps running out after only a few hours... I wanted you to have a new one. And I know how much you hate iPhones, so I figured you'd prefer a different smartphone.'

'This is brilliant,' Greg said.

'That's not all I got you,' Mycroft admitted. He bent back down and pulled a second package from beneath the bed, handing it over. The box was a bit bigger than the first, wrapped just as perfectly, and Greg felt satisfaction curl through him when he tore the bright paper apart. Yes, he was a child; moving on.

He smiled when he saw what was inside; a phone case for his new mobile and a Loki vinyl bobblehead. He giggled when he pulled out the phone case.

'Hufflepuff,' he said. It was mostly yellow, a thick strip of the colour running down the middle of the case, with black patterns on either side. In the middle was the Hufflepuff house crest from Pottermore.

Mycroft smiled. 'I couldn't help myself,' he admitted. 'I also bought myself a new phone and a case.' He slid his phone from his pocket; Greg didn't doubt that it was the latest Blackberry, but unlike Mycroft's old mobile it had a dark green and silver case with the Slytherin crest on the back.

Greg ran his fingers over the cover, his eyes torn between the mobile, still in its packaging, and the cover, bright and new.

'You _are_ a Hufflepuff, you know,' Mycroft mused.

'Yeah,' Greg said, 'you said that when we found my old GameCube and played  _Harry Potter Quidditch_ .'

'Mm,' Mycroft hummed. 'You're hard-working, friendly, incredibly loyal, and when you pull your head out, you tend to accept those around you for who they are.'

'Oi!' Greg scowled at his boyfriend, who just grinned at him. 'No more alcohol for you,' Greg grumbled.

'My point is...' Mycroft ran a hand through his hair before reaching over the mobile phone cover. He tapped at the crest on the back. 'Whenever you look at this I want you to remember that you're a good person, Gregory. You're kind, sweet, and have good values. I don't want you to ever think that you're not worth anything.'

'Is this about Oxford?' Greg asked.

'It's about everything,' Mycroft shrugged. 'I just want you to remember.' He handed the cover back and Greg looked down at it.

'Why'd you get a Slytherin one, then?' he asked. ''Cause you're cunning?'

When he glanced up Mycroft was smiling softly, BlackBerry in his right hand. 'I got it because it reminds me of you,' he admitted.

'Oh my God, we are _so_ cheesy,' Greg laughed. He leaned over and kissed Mycroft softly. 'I love it,' he said. His voice softened, his eyes turned gentle. Mycroft smiled. 'And I love _you_. Thank you so much, Mycroft. This is... this is _really_ sweet.'

'You're welcome,' Mycroft said. 'Now you just have to put all your music and photos on the new phone.'

Greg groaned and flopped back onto the bed. 'Why couldn't you have done that for me?' he whined.

Mycroft laughed at him.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg was fiddling with his new phone- it was so _shiny_ and _big_ , and the case kept making him smile stupidly- when Maggie tapped him on the shoulder. 'Huh?' Greg grunted, looking up.

'Time to blow out your candles, birthday boy,' she said.

Greg grinned and stood. He followed his mother into the kitchen and everybody else crammed themselves in afterwards. Mycroft had placed the cake on the table- it was large, covered in chocolate, and had little  _Avengers_ figurines stuck to the top around the “18” candle.

Greg laughed as he sat. 'Was this your doing?' he asked his boyfriend.

'The Loki figurine was,' Mycroft admitted, sitting beside him. Maggie started singing happy birthday, which everybody picked up with enthusiasm. Greg flushed and ducked his head, only looking up when both his mum  _and_ Dimmock requested photos. Greg posed for a few with various friends, and with Mycroft and Maggie, before he was allowed to blow out the two candles.

Everyone clapped and Greg's blush darkened.

Maggie moved around the table to stand beside Greg and put a hand on his shoulder, making him look up. 'I just wanted to thank everyone for coming,' she said, 'and all of you for being there for Greg when he needed it.' She looked down at him. 'Greg, I'm so proud of you. I can't believe that you're already eighteen.'

'Thanks for everything, Mum,' Greg replied. When Maggie sniffed Greg stood and hugged her tightly. He heard her sniff again in his ear and said, 'It's okay, Mum.'

'You've grown up so fast,' Maggie whispered before pulling back. She smiled at him, and though her eyes were wet she wasn't crying. Maggie reached up to push his fringe back. 'I'm so proud of you, Greg,' she repeated. 'Happy birthday.'

Greg smiled and hugged her again, burying his face in her hair and breathing in deeply. His mum was just how he remembered her from when he was little; soft and warm and she smelled the same, too. Only now he was taller than her, bigger than her... but she was still his mum.

A soft _aww_ came from someone in the kitchen, followed by a smack of that person getting hit, but Greg ignored them. When Greg and Maggie finally pulled apart, Greg had to wipe his face, but nobody said anything.

'Here,' Mycroft said, handing him a large knife. Greg sat and cut into the cake. There were more cheers, followed by Lily shouting, 'Now you have to kiss the closest person!'

Greg immediately pounced on Mycroft, who kissed him back.  _Thoroughly_ . They didn't break apart until Sherlock pushed his way between them, demanding cake. Greg helped his mum, Mycroft and Mrs Hudson distribute the cake, taking the largest piece for himself. He immediately shoved a large forkful into his mouth, not wanting to dwell on the fact that in a few short months he'd be moving out, leaving his mum all alone...

'Mm, this is delicious,' Greg moaned. Cake was magical, it really was, Greg decided.

'It is,' Mycroft agreed.

'Thank you, boys,' Maggie smiled from opposite them. The guests had dispersed once more, and Maggie was packing away the empty bowls and untouched snacks. 'Are you having fun, Greg?' she asked her son.

'Yeah,' Greg mumbled around his mouthful. Maggie tutted and Greg quickly took a sip of his J.D. and Coke to clear his throat. 'Yeah, Mum, this whole night has been awesome. Thanks.'

'Not a problem,' Maggie said. She ducked down to kiss his forehead, Greg huffing as she pulled back. 'My little boy's all grown up,' she sniffed, this time exaggerating greatly.

'You're a weirdo,' he grumbled.

'And you are, too,' Maggie retorted. She ruffled his hair before leaving the kitchen, Greg pouting after her.

'Stop pouting and eat your cake, Gregory,' Mycroft said and nudged his side.

'Mm, cake,' Greg hummed. Mycroft shook his head.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Everyone started heading home around one am. They all hugged or shook Greg's hand, and Dimmock pulled him aside to hug him tightly and wish him happy birthday for the tenth time that night.

'Thanks for coming,' Greg said.

'As if I'd miss my best friend turning eighteen,' Dimmock laughed.

Greg grinned. 'Still, thanks... Michael.'

'Shut it,' Dimmock snickered before stepping out the door, Molly, Lily and Alex following after him with a few last waves and birthday wishes.

Mrs Hudson was staying the night because Greg had found Sherlock and John passed out on his bed about an hour earlier. His anger at the younger teenagers for taking up the entire mattress (he had _so_ been looking forward to birthday sex!) was overshadowed by how adorable the two looked curled up together.

Sherlock was against the wall on his side, with John snuggled into him, his back to Sherlock's front. Sherlock had both arms wrapped tightly around his boyfriend and his face buried in John's hair. Rather than disturb the two- and risk the tantrum Sherlock would no doubt throw- Greg grabbed the spare blankets and made up the sofa. Though it was small, he and Mycroft could fit relatively well if they snuggled together.

Mycroft was pressed up against the back of the sofa when Greg entered the sitting room after brushing his teeth. He had a lop-sided smile on from all the alcohol he'd ingested and Greg chuckled when he laid down.

'You're _druunk_ ,' he teased.

'No more than you,' Mycroft murmured as he pulled Greg closer. They shifted about a bit before getting comfortable. 'Are you sure you don't want me to wake my brother?'

'Nah, leave 'em there,' Greg yawned. 'Too tired to argue with him.'

'We could always go join them,' Mycroft commented, stroking a hand through Greg's hair. 'That'd certainly piss him off.'

Greg giggled, body shaking against his boyfriend's, before saying, 'Nah, I just turned eighteen; I'd rather live to see my next birthday.'

Mycroft smiled. 'So you had fun?'

'Yeah, great fun,' Greg nodded. 'Thanks for my present, Myc, I love it.'

'Not a problem.' Greg leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. 'Though I _was_ hoping for birthday sex as a thank you,' Mycroft said when they broke apart.

'Me too,' Greg said. Suddenly Mycroft got a strange look in his eyes and Greg asked, 'What?'

'Well...' Mycroft said slowly. His hand ran up and down Greg's side under the blanket. 'We could always...'

He raised an eyebrow and Greg's mouth fell open. 'You can't be serious.'

'Why not?'

''Cause the house is full!' Greg said. 'My mum and Mrs Hudson are just down the hall, Sherlock and John too.'

'So?' Mycroft said. 'My brother and John tired themselves out, as did Mrs Hudson. I doubt your mother will come to investigate even if we _do_ wake her. Besides, they have to have realised you'd want sex for your birthday.'

Greg chewed on his lip and stared up at the taller teenager.

'Please?' Mycroft pouted. He thrust his hips forward and groaned. 'I'm horny.'

Well, how could Greg possibly say no? He dragged Mycroft down for a quick snog before tossing the blankets off and racing down the hallway. He crept into his room, keeping an eye on the two sleeping teenagers on his bed, and grabbed a bottle of lube, the condoms he and Mycroft used when they had sex in public places, and the box of tissues from his bedside table.

When he got back Mycroft was stripping from his clothes. He got tangled in his t-shirt and swore roughly at it, which made Greg giggle and drop the lube.

'Gregory!' Mycroft hissed.

'What?' Greg grinned. 'You're a funny drunk.'

'Am not,' Mycroft pouted.

Greg giggled again. Yeah, the alcohol was definitely setting in. He only stopped giggling when Mycroft grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him forward. Their mouths were wet and sloppy, the two licking at each other as they tried to get comfortable. Greg ended up on top of Mycroft, Mycroft's pyjama bottoms around his thighs, cock bouncing free.

'God, you're gorgeous,' Greg groaned. He wrapped his hand around Mycroft's prick and pulled, enjoying the soft noises Mycroft made, the way he bit his lip to contain any shouts or overly-loud moans. Greg kept stroking his boyfriend even as he fiddled with the condom, trying to get it open with one hand. It was too hard when sober, and proved impossible now, so Greg huffed and finally let Mycroft go.

'What's wrong?' Mycroft asked, panting already.

'Condom,' Greg said.

'Oh,' Mycroft hummed. Greg clambered off of him and stripped off the rest of his clothes, passing Mycroft the condom when the red-head held out one hand. By the time Greg got his clothes off and fell onto the sofa, Mycroft had rolled the condom on and slicked himself up. He pushed his way between Greg's legs and slid two wet fingers into his arse, Greg groaning at the sudden entrance, the delightful feeling of being so thoroughly _full_.

'Oh...  _oh_ ...' Greg moaned. 'That's it, just...  _ah_ !'

'Be quiet, Greg,' Mycroft hissed, his words slurring together slightly.

'You try 'n be quiet with two fingers up your arse!' Greg huffed.

' _Gregory_ !'

'Mycroft!'

Mycroft looked up, his hazy eyes narrowed into a glare. Greg winked at him cheekily, but forgot about annoying Mycroft when a third finger slid in, stretching him quickly but thoroughly.

'Oh Jesus fucking Christ  _yess_ ,' Greg hissed. 'Yes, yes, yes-  _mmf_ !'

Mycroft had slapped a hand over his mouth and Greg giggled, then licked Mycroft's hand when the younger teen stabbed particularly hard at his prostate.

Mycroft sighed. 'At this rate I'll leave you to give yourself a birthday orgasm,' he muttered.

' _No_ !' Greg whined. He wrapped one leg as best he could around his boyfriend, rolling his hips up as he spoke. 'Come on, Myc. I know you love me and want me to be happy!'

'Just keep it down,' Mycroft grumbled and went back to prepping him.

A few more minutes was all Greg could take. He nudged Mycroft with his knee and drew him up when Mycroft looked at him. Their mouths met again, sloppier than before, the two teenagers moaning as Mycroft shifted up and between Greg's legs. When he pushed in Greg's thoughts stalled and his body went tense. Then Mycroft rolled his hips, drew out,  _pushed back in_ , and-

Greg had forgotten how awesome drunk sex could be. And it was even better with Mycroft.

'Oh my God,' Greg moaned.

'Merde,' Mycroft grunted in reply.

'Oh fuck, yes!' Greg grinned. 'Talk French to me, baby.'

Mycroft's hips stalled and his shoulders shook. It took Greg a second to realise-

'Are you  _laughing_ ?' he demanded.

'I'm sorry,' Mycroft said between giggles, 'I can't help it.'

' Fils de pute ,' Greg grunted. 'Get back to fucking me.'

'Oui, monsieur,' Mycroft replied.

'Shut the fuck up.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Are not.'

'Are too.'

'Mycroft!'

Mycroft giggled and pressed his face into Greg's neck, his shoulders shaking. Greg groaned.

'We're never having drunk sex again,' Greg decided. He shifted his hips a bit, the pillow Mycroft had stuffed under his arse keeping him elevated. Mycroft groaned when Greg clamped down on him, and the brunet grinned. 'Not laughin' now, are ya?' he teased.

'Mm-hmm,' was all Mycroft said. He pressed a kiss to Greg's neck and started thrusting again, shallow and slow, taking his time instead of rushing. Soon Greg's annoyance melted away, pleasure washing over him in soft bursts. 'M'sorry,' Mycroft panted as he lifted his head back up. He caught Greg's lips, kissing him softly.

'S'okay,' Greg replied. 'Just, ah... k-keep doin' that.'

'I'd planned on it,' Mycroft said, offering Greg a grin when the older boy looked at him.

Greg just shook his head and hooked his arms around Mycroft's neck, dragging him back down for another kiss. Mycroft pressed against him heavily, drowning Greg in heat and the scent of sweat and bourbon. Greg groaned and sucked Mycroft's tongue into his mouth as he pushed up, trying to get Mycroft's cock deeper, deeper-

He came like that, pressed into the sofa, Mycroft heavy atop him and panting into his mouth. Greg groaned Mycroft's name, barely remembering to keep his voice down, and buried his face in Mycroft's neck. Mycroft continued to move atop him, in him, his hips speeding up until he found his own release.

They laid there together, breathing heavily and skin shining with sweat. When Mycroft finally sat up and pulled back, Greg shivered.

'Are you okay?' Mycroft asked.

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'Just tired and a bit chilly.' They cleaned themselves up with the tissues Greg had grabbed from the bedroom and then climbed under the covers, curling up together on the lounge. Mycroft's skin was warm against his own, so Greg kicked the blanket off his legs.

'Gregory?'

'Don't wanna get too hot,' Greg said through a yawn.

'Mm,' Mycroft murmured, face already buried in Greg's hair.

Greg grinned. 'That was nice, Myc. Thanks.'

'You're... welcome,' Mycroft mumbled softly.

Greg chuckled but didn't say anything else; it was a nice end to his birthday.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Greg woke up to something poking him the face. He grunted and swatted at it, only for it to return with more force. Finally he peeled his eyes open and came face-to-face with Sherlock Holmes.

'What're yeh doin'?' he grumbled.

'Poking you,' Sherlock said, like he routinely went around stabbing at people with his finger. 'Get up, it's breakfast time.'

'Whassa time?' Greg murmured.

'Eight,' Sherlock said.

'Guh, too early,' the older teenager said. He swatted at Sherlock again. 'Go 'way.'

'But how is John supposed to watch cartoons if you're on the sofa?' Sherlock demanded.

'Go watch them in Gregory's room,' came Mycroft's voice. His warm breath tickled the back of Greg's neck and made the brunette smile.

'But Ms Lestrade said no eating in the bedroom,' Sherlock pouted.

Greg groaned and scrubbed at his eyes. ' _Fine_ ,' he growled, 'I'm gettin' up.' He sat up and yawned, scratching a hand through his hair and blinking wearily.

'Um... you might not want to get up, actually,' Sherlock commented.

'What?' Greg looked at the younger Holmes, who had an eyebrow raised. 'You just said-'

'You're naked,' Sherlock stated.

Greg blinked at him a few times before glancing down-

Well, how about that. He _was_ naked.

Suddenly the night before came back and Greg remembered falling asleep with Mycroft after fantastic birthday sex; he'd forgotten to pull his pyjamas back on.

'Shit,' he muttered and dragged the blankets back up. Sherlock snickered. 'It ain't funny,' Greg huffed.

'You had sex on the sofa; disgusting,' Sherlock said with a wrinkled nose. 'Where are we supposed to sit now?'

'On the floor?' Mycroft suggested. He sat up and glanced under the blankets. 'Sherlock, pass us our clothes.'

'Why-'

'Just pass them!' Mycroft hissed.

'Pass what?' John asked. He walked into the sitting room with a bowl of cereal and Sherlock jumped up, going straight to his boyfriend's side. He nicked his spoon and started picking at the cereal, not that John seemed to mind.

Greg had spotted his and Mycroft's pyjamas bunched up on the other side of the coffee table and said, 'John, pass our clothes, mate?'

John looked to where Greg was pointing and swallowed his mouthful of food. 'Why are your clothes over there?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'They hap fex, Jawn,' he mumbled through his full mouth.

'What?' John asked in confusion.

Sherlock gulped thickly, 'Sex, John! They had sex last night.'

John turned bright pink and looked at Greg and Mycroft. 'On... on the sofa?'

'Yes, on the sofa!' Greg hissed. He twisted around to look through the doorway and could see his mum and Mrs Hudson chatting in the kitchen. 'Come on, pass us our clothes!'

Sherlock grinned broadly and asked, 'Now, why would we do that?'

''Cause you don't have a death wish?' Greg growled.

'Just give us our clothes, Sherlock, or we'll get them ourselves,' Mycroft snapped.

Greg smirked. 'But maybe you and John want that, eh?' Sherlock scowled and John flushed brighter.

'We do not!' Sherlock almost shouted.

'Sure, sure,' Greg said while Mycroft chuckled. 'Just admit it, Sherlock; you wanna see me naked.'

'Who wants to see who naked?' Maggie asked as she and Mrs Hudson entered the sitting room.

'Oh, God,' Greg groaned. Mycroft shifted behind him, dragging the blankets further up.

'What's wrong?' Maggie said, looking between the teenagers.

Greg opened his mouth to respond but Sherlock beat him too it. 'Mycroft and Gregory are naked!'

All eyes turned to them and Mycroft ducked his head, trying to hide behind Greg. Greg blushed brightly and said, 'Um... we... that is...'

Maggie chuckled and shook her head. 'Just couldn't wait, huh?' she teased.

' _Mum_ ,' Greg groaned.

'Alright, everyone out; let them get dressed,' Maggie said. She and Mrs Hudson shooed Sherlock and John into the kitchen.

Looking up to make sure they were alone, Greg only got up when the kitchen door shut. He jumped over the coffee table and scrambled into his boxers and t-shirt while beside him Mycroft did the same.

'This is all your fault,' Greg muttered.

'You had just as much sex with me as I did with you,' Mycroft retorted.

When they were dressed they grabbed the pile of tissues they'd left on the floor, Greg making sure the condom was amongst them. Mycroft took the lube and condoms back to the bedroom while Greg disposed of the tissues.

They re-entered the living room to find Sherlock on the floor and John on the sofa, the younger Holmes glaring at his boyfriend like he'd been betrayed. Maggie and Mrs Hudson had taken the armchairs, leaving Greg and Mycroft standing.

'Um...' Greg tried, but Maggie waved a hand at him.

'You're eighteen, Greg,' she said. 'Get used to getting caught naked.'

'What?' Greg spluttered.

'We're _really_ not going to make it a habit!' Mycroft added.

'You're both disgusting,' Sherlock commented, and John snickered into his cereal.

'You know,' Greg said, 'none of this would have happened if  _somebody_ hadn't stolen our bed last night.'

'Though in their defence, they  _were_ adorable,' Mycroft said, smiling brightly at his brother.

John flushed but looked pleased with himself, while Sherlock just glared at the lot of them. When Maggie giggled and Mrs Hudson hid a smile behind her tea cup, Sherlock huffed and flopped himself over John's legs. He obediently opened his mouth when John fed him cereal, which really just  _helped_ the whole “Sherlock and John are totally adorable” idea.

Shaking his head, Greg went into the kitchen to get coffee and make some toast. Mycroft trailed after him and soon the discomfort of the last ten minutes had passed. Greg sipped his coffee and smiled at Mycroft, who winked as he bit into his toast.

'Oh my God, don't you two  _ever_ stop?' Sherlock demanded from the doorway.

'Stop looking and you won't have to see it,' Greg retorted.

'Whatever,' Sherlock dismissed. 'Lestrade, where do you keep your orange juice?'

'Fridge, behind the butter,' Greg told him. Sherlock poured himself a large glass and then left again. 'He and John  _are_ adorable,' Greg commented.

'Mm,' Mycroft agreed.

'Do you reckon they'll stay together?' Greg asked. Mycroft raised an eyebrow, so he added, 'John asked me, once. On Sherlock's birthday, I think. I told him I thought they'd stay together.'

'Mm,' Mycroft hummed again. He leaned over to steal a sip of Greg's coffee, Greg shaking his head. Screw Sherlock and John;  _Mycroft_ was the adorable one. 'I think they will,' he said. 'John understands Sherlock in a way that nobody else ever has, myself included.'

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'That's why I think that  _we'll_ stay together.'

Mycroft smiled. 'Forever?'

'Forever and ever,' Greg cooed.

His boyfriend laughed and kissed him. 'Let's go watch cartoons,' he said. Greg grinned as Mycroft linked their fingers and dragged him back into the living room. Sherlock had splayed himself over John but moved when Mycroft nudged his legs (after much grumbling and cursing, of course). Greg curled up against his boyfriend, while beside him John did the same. Greg smiled at the younger teenager, who grinned in response.

_This is nice_ , Greg thought and passed his coffee to Mycroft.  _We'll have to do it again before we leave for Oxfordshire..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **French**
> 
> **Merde** – shit
> 
> **Fils de pute** – son of a bitch
> 
> **Oui, monsieur** – yes, sir
> 
> **Author's Note:** I told you this chapter would be coming soon! It didn't take me three months to get it out, huzzah!
> 
> Anywho, the next chapter is the last *le gasp!* I know, I know, but there's still the epilogue after that. Just gotta get chapter 104 and the epilogue written... well, I gotta re-write the epilogue 'cause an awesome reviewer gave me some info on Oxford that I have to work into what I've already got down. Then I'm done! Wow. Weird to think about, but there you go.
> 
> Thanks for all the reviews, comments and kudos, I appreciate them :)
> 
> Dreamer


	104. I'll Make Confetti

Greg found Dimmock packing things into large cardboard boxes. He leaned against the door-frame, arms folded as he watched his best friend pack away everything he'd need for university. A large part of Greg still couldn't believe that this was happening; he'd got into _Oxford_ and he was leaving in a week. Dimmock would be gone in two days, most of his stuff packed up in the back of his car, he, Molly, Lily and Alex heading to London to start the next part of their lives.

'Hey.'

Greg blinked and looked up. Dimmock was staring at him, head cocked.

'What's up?' Dimmock asked.

'Just came over to say hi,' Greg said. 'We haven't hung out much lately.' Between getting into university, spending time with his family, and buying everything he'd need for his dorm room, Greg hadn't seen a lot of his best friend.

'Yeah,' Dimmock agreed. 'It's been a crazy couple of weeks.'

'Excited?' Greg asked, smiling and entering the room. He jumped onto the bed and leaned against the wall like he had so many times over so many years. Dimmock's PSP was on the bedside table like always, next to a bottle of water and a stack of magazines.

Dimmock's room hadn't changed all that much, just like Greg's hadn't; different posters on the walls, a few more books, but the same dark orange colour, the same desk, the same curtains that Greg remembered Dimmock's mum buying and putting up.

'Yeah, but nervous, too,' Dimmock admitted. 'I've never lived alone.'

'You're moving in with three other people,' Greg pointed out. 'That's not really living alone.'

'I know,' Dimmock shrugged. He folded a shirt and put it in the closest box. 'But my dad won't be there. I'm excited about that, 'cause he can be a dick, but... he's my dad, you know?'

'Yeah,' was all Greg said. He didn't like Mr Dimmock, but he got where Dimmock was coming from; spending your entire life with one person, then going off on your own... Greg wasn't dealing with it, full stop. He refused to dwell on the fact that in one week he'd be living away from his mum.

'Thank God Molly can cook,' Dimmock joked, making Greg laugh.

'You won't starve, at least,' Greg said.

'Yeah. Apparently Alex is a good shopper, so we're leaving it to here to do groceries and everything,' Dimmock said. 'Lily's crazy good at schedules and stuff, despite not following them all too well. I think it'll all work out well.'

'Yeah,' Greg echoed. 'Hopefully.'

'What's up, Greg?' Dimmock asked, turning away from his packing. 'Worried?'

'A bit,' Greg shrugged. 'A think a whole heap of people our age are.'

'I suppose,' Dimmock nodded. 'But we're still gonna be mates, you know,' he said and walked across the room. He sat on the bed beside Greg and scooted up until they were side-by-side, shoulders pressed together. Greg kicked his legs a bit, memories of when he was so short his legs didn't reach the edge of the bed flashing through his mind. 'My dad'll still be here, your mum, everyone else... we'll keep in touch.'

'I hope we do,' Greg said. 'Mum doesn't talk to anyone she went to school with.'

'Yeah, but she got pregnant and dropped out,' Dimmock pointed out. 'A bit different to what we're doing.'

Greg smiled. Maggie had always told him that she didn't regret having Greg, but had admitted that it would have been a lot easier if she'd waited; or if she'd had a kid with someone other than Clayton Temple. Greg understood where she was coming from; having a kid at eighteen would freak anyone out. His mum still loved him, and their lives had worked out; that was all that mattered.

'Stop moping,' Dimmock said, nudging Greg's shoulder. 'Where's Mycroft?'

'With Sherlock,' Greg said. 'I'm pretty sure they're taking turns glaring at each other, pouting, and hugging. Sherlock wants to draw up a schedule so that Mycroft visits often enough.'

'He's a weirdo,' Dimmock chuckled.

'True,' Greg agreed, 'but he's gonna go places, I reckon.'

'With his brains? I bloody hope so,' Dimmock said. 'John will make sure of it; he's a bright kid.'

'He wants to be a doctor,' Greg mused.

Dimmock chuckled. 'So we'll both be cops, Mycroft will take over the government, Sherlock will do... whatever the fuck Sherlock does, and John can patch us all up when we get shot.'

'What about Molly and Lily?' Greg asked.

'Hmm... Molly can tell us how the victims died,' Dimmock decided after a brief silence, 'Lily can do the same. And Alex can write books based on our lives.'

Greg snickered and soon Dimmock joined him, the two descending into stupid fits of laughter. They only stopped when Mr Dimmock rapped his knuckles on the door.

'Sorry, Dad,' Dimmock said. 'I'm almost done.'

'Alright,' Mr Dimmock said. He eyed Greg briefly before saying, 'Did you want to stay for dinner, Gregory?'

Greg's mouth fell open, and a quick glance at Dimmock showed that his best friend was just as shocked.

'Uh... y-yeah,' Greg stuttered. 'Um, thanks, Mr Dimmock.'

Dimmock's dad just nodded and eyed them again before leaving. Greg stared at the door.

'What the hell?' he mumbled.

'No idea,' Dimmock said. 'Maybe he finally likes you 'cause you'll be in Oxfordshire and I'll be in London.'

'Maybe,' Greg agreed. 'But if I get kicked out I'll move to London and camp out on the end of your bed.'

'No fucking way,' Dimmock huffed. 'The bed won't be big enough for me, you, _and_ Molly.'

'Molly can sleep on the floor,' Greg shrugged.

'Fuck you,' Dimmock grunted.

'I love you, too,' Greg cooed.

Dimmock laughed.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


It was late when Greg got home, his mum already in bed and Mycroft and Sherlock watching TV in the bedroom. Greg peeled his jacket off and tossed it over the desk. 'Staying?' he asked.

Sherlock just nodded and Mycroft said, 'If it's okay? Margaret already agreed.'

''Course it's fine,' Greg said.

'How was Dimmock's?' Mycroft asked while Greg toed his shoes off and shoved them into the corner.

'Good,' Greg said. 'A bit weird, having a civil dinner with Mr Dimmock. Haven't done that since Dimmo's mum was alive.'

'Maybe he's just realised that fighting his son's best friend isn't a good use of his time,' Mycroft said.

'Yeah, probably,' Greg agreed. 'I'm gonna make some tea, anyone want anything?'

'I'll have a cup of peppermint,' Mycroft said. 'Sherlock?'

'I'm fine,' Sherlock said.

He was quieter than usual, and hadn't snapped at Greg once, which was a bit weird. But Greg supposed that Sherlock wanted to spend his time _with_ Mycroft instead of fighting with everyone around him. Greg understood that.

He left the bedroom and went into the kitchen, yawning and scratching at his head. _Tea_. He had to add tea to the list of food he was going to buy when he got to Oxfordshire. As always, Greg felt his stomach flutter; he still couldn't believe that he'd passed all his exams well enough to get into _Oxford_. But it was finally starting to sink in, and sometimes Greg couldn't wipe the grin from his face. Other times he had to hold back tears. His mum was being strong, but sometimes she looked at Greg and looked _sad_ and Greg wanted to pack it all in and stay at home.

He wouldn't, though. Maggie would kill him.

The kettle had just finished boiling when Greg heard a bump. He turned quickly to see Sherlock standing in the doorway, blue eyes on the two mugs Greg had made up.

'Hey,' Greg said. When Sherlock didn't say anything, he added, 'What's up?'

Sherlock shrugged a shoulder and Greg turned back to the tea.

'I know you're gonna miss Mycroft, Sherlock,' he said as he poured water into the mugs, 'but it won't be forever, yeah? He'll be back all the time, and you can always visit. I mean, from what I've seen our rooms aren't gonna be _that_ big, but big enough.' He was still annoyed that he and Mycroft couldn't get a flat together, but according to Oxford they had to live on campus for their first two years. There were more options for their third year.

'Anywho,' Greg continued, 'it'll all work out. And Mum said you and John can visit the house whenever you want and stay over if your dad's pissing you off. I'd rather you goin' through my stuff then living with that piece of crap, so-'

Greg cut himself off when he felt skinny arms wrap around his waist, a short, warm body then pressed to his back. He froze briefly before twisting just slightly, just enough to see that Sherlock Holmes was _hugging him_ , face buried between Greg's shoulders.

'Er... Sherlock?'

'Thank you,' Sherlock mumbled.

'For what?' Greg asked.

'Everything,' Sherlock said, and Greg was _sure_ that he heard a sniff. 'You've been good for Mycroft; you stopped him from going back to the way he was. I don't think he'd ever use again, but the people he spent time with and the parties he went to... he would have slipped or got himself hurt or into trouble. You saved him, and I thought you'd be bad for him, but you aren't. And thank you for letting him live here, and for taking him in, and for taking _me_ in, and for helping John with our relationship and for always being here and...' he stalled and sniffed again, the noise wet this time. Greg didn't know how to respond. He'd never heard Sherlock say that much at once. 'Thank you, Greg,' Sherlock mumbled again. 'I appreciate everything you've done.'

Greg slowly put his spoon down and turned. Sherlock let him, and didn't protest when Greg wrapped his own arms around the younger teenager. 'No worries, Sherlock,' he said. 'You're my mate, and my boyfriend's brother. That makes you family.'

Sherlock nodded slightly, his curls brushing against Greg's face. 'I wouldn't mind being your brother-in-law,' he admitted. 'I hope you and Mycroft get married one day.'

Greg grinned. 'Thanks, Sherlock. I appreciate it.'

Sherlock nodded again, and after a few more seconds he pulled back. He scrubbed at his eyes and then stepped back and raised his head high. 'If you ever tell anyone what just happened, I will murder you.'

Greg smirked. 'No worries, Sherlock.'

Sherlock eyed Greg for a beat before turning and stalking away. Greg watched him go, then chuckled and turned back to his tea.

_Weird day_ , he mused.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Sherlock jumped onto the bed and burrowed his way into Mycroft's side, not stopping until his brother's arm was wrapped around him. 'Are you okay, Sherlock?' Mycroft asked, turning away from the TV to eye his sibling.

'Mm,' Sherlock said. 'Greg's good for you, Mycroft. Don't ruin it.'

Mycroft blinked, shocked, before saying, 'I don't plan on ruining it.'

'Good,' Sherlock sniffed. He burrowed further down and went silent, eyes glued to the TV. Mycroft continued to stare at him until Gregory walked into the room, the brunet smiling at the siblings.

'Here,' Greg said and handed Mycroft's tea over. Mycroft thanked him softly, and gave Greg a kiss when the older boy got on the bed and snuggled up beside him. ' _Supernatural_?' Greg asked as he turned to the TV.

'Mm,' Mycroft hummed.

'Always a good choice,' Greg said.

Mycroft smiled.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


'Gregory, they're here!' Maggie called.

Greg adjusted his shirt one last time before shouting, 'Coming!' and leaving his room. His mum was already answering the door and Greg smiled when Mycroft walked in, Meghan Holmes following him.

'Hey,' Greg said, kissing his boyfriend hello before turning to Meghan. 'Mrs Holmes.'

'Gregory,' Meghan smiled. It was different this time around, Greg thought as he escorted his boyfriend's mother into the kitchen. Meghan laughed softly when Greg helped Mycroft into his chair, exaggerating his gestures greatly and talking in a snooty accent until Mycroft told him to shut it.

Greg still remembered their previous “tea dates”, when Meghan would turn her nose up at him and Mycroft would be a bland, perfect arsehole. Greg now realised that he wasn't much better, always sneering at Mycroft and calling him a prick. Now when he looked at Mycroft he smiled stupidly and imaged ripping him out of his clothes. Which wasn't something he wanted to think about in front of his mum _and_ Meghan Holmes, but he had a problem; he could admit it.

'Have you got everything you need for Oxford?' Meghan asked.

It was directed at both the teenagers, but Mycroft answered; 'Just about,' he said. 'We decided to get snacks and things in Oxfordshire, and Gregory still needs to buy a new quilt-set.'

'I thought we were gonna go together,' Greg pouted.

'Sherlock was okay with accompanying me,' Mycroft shrugged. 'I'll still come with you if you want.'

Greg groaned. 'We wouldn't _have_ to buy so much new stuff if we didn't have to room separately.'

Mycroft just smiled. Undergraduates had to live on campus and Mycroft's room was in Pembroke College, while Greg's was in St John's College. There were options for them to live together when they were older, but for now they had to deal with single-rooms with single-beds and share a floor with five or so other people.

Mycroft didn't mind all that much; it was all part of the university experience. Though he _would_ miss sleeping beside Gregory every night, and he knew that Greg felt the same; it was why he was currently pouting.

'We're only ten minutes away from each other,' Mycroft pointed out. 'Fifteen by bus.'

Greg's pout only deepened and Mycroft chuckled. Meghan and Maggie shared an amused glance, not that the couple noticed.

'Stop pouting, Gregory,' Mycroft said.

'How am I supposed to sleep alone after sharing a bed with you?' Greg demanded. 'Where does Oxford get off, thinking it can force us to live alone...'

'We can always have sleepovers,' Mycroft pointed out.

Greg hummed at that.

'It'll be annoying, sharing a single bed, but we'll manage,' Mycroft said. 'Besides, this way we get some privacy back, and if one of us has an exam the other won't bother them while studying. I know that you disliked me monopolising the desk during our exams.'

'Yeah,' Greg sighed, 'but it was worth it, 'cause you were there.'

Mycroft smiled and leaned over to kiss him. 'The rooms aren't that bad,' he said. 'I'll still help you study when you need it.'

'Yeah,' Greg repeated, 'alright, I suppose I can get used to it. And we can live together in a year or two, right?'

'Two or three, yes,' Mycroft nodded.

Greg smiled. 'I suppose I can live with that,' he said.

The couple smiled at each other before Maggie coughed and Meghan said, 'And I thought Sherlock and John were adorable.'

Greg flushed and Mycroft scowled at his mother, who just smiled brightly at him. Now Greg knew when the Holmes brothers got it from.

'As long as your sleepovers don't interrupt your classes, I think it'll all work out,' Maggie said.

' _Mum_ ,' Greg groaned and tried to drown himself in his tea.

'You always think the worst of me,' Maggie tutted. 'Did I mention your sex life at all?'

'You just did!' Greg snapped.

'You're both healthy young adults, it's understandable that you have a healthy and active sex life,' Meghan pointed out.

'Oh my God,' Mycroft groaned.

'Now you know what it's like,' Greg huffed.

'Like it's any better when Margaret says it,' Mycroft muttered.

'Do you know what we _should_ do?' Maggie hummed.

Greg eyed her wearily, and even Mycroft looked ready to bolt.

Meghan beamed and put her tea cup down. 'Baby pictures!' she declared, Maggie nodding in agreement.

'No!' Greg begged.

'Please don't!' Mycroft added.

'After another cup of tea,' Meghan said, completely ignoring her son.

'Agreed,' Maggie said, nodding. The two women smiled into their cups as their sons pouted.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


_**Lily Hooper > Greg Lestrade** _

_Three weeks, okay? In three weeks you WILL VISIT OR I WILL MAKE YOU SUFFER! SUFFER, GREGORY, SUFFER!_

_**Sally Donovan** I love it. _

_**Anthea Lander** Me too. Don't try and get away from Lily, Lestrade. She'll get you. _

_**Alex Rose Schofield** You're all insane. _

_**Lily Hooper** Shut up, Wombat. _

_**Alex Rose Schofield** You shut up. _

_**Lily Hooper** Ooh, great comeback. _

_**Molly L Hooper** Stop being mean, Lil. _

_**Joe Wright** WHAT UP! ARE WE INVITED? _

_**Benjamin James Masters** We'd better be. _

_**M Dimmock** What happened here? _

  
  


Greg huffed a laugh as he scrolled down his page. He didn't go on Facebook all that often, but he'd checked his email a few minutes earlier and found a heap of comments. It seemed that Lily had overtaken his Facebook page, their friends quickly joining in. There were a few more lines of BJ and Joe demanding an invite, Lily and Alex fighting, and Dimmock replying to everything with “lol”.

'Gregory, we- you haven't packed your laptop yet.' Mycroft sighed and Greg turned guiltily.

'I just wanted to check my email,' he said.

'And you somehow ended up on Facebook?' Mycroft asked.

Greg shrugged and Mycroft crossed the bedroom. It was sparse, now. A lot of their things were still there; Mycroft's guitars, some of their books and CDs, their TV. Mycroft was going to buy a new one for his dorm room, and though he hadn't told Greg yet, he and Maggie were throwing in to purchase Greg one.

Mycroft smiled as he leaned over Greg's seat and caught sight of the page. 'Our friends are amusing,' he hummed.

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'I'm gonna miss 'em.'

'Me too,' Mycroft said. He pressed a kiss to Greg's temple. 'Shut down the laptop and put it in your bag. Everything's already in the car.'

Greg nodded but didn't say anything, staying quiet as Mycroft stood tall and left the room. He looked at his Facebook page one last time before tapping out a quick reply;

  
  


_**Greg Lestrade** You're all insane. Leave me alone. _

  
  


With that done Greg shut down his laptop, doing one last sweep of the bedroom as it powered down.

No, he was pretty sure he had everything; all the books he was most likely to read while at university, the few CDs he'd decided to bring, his CD player and clothes and shoes and new pillows and...

Greg sighed and sat on his bed. His and Mycroft's bed. It was still made, ready for when Greg and Mycroft visited. Or for when Sherlock and John crashed. Greg didn't doubt that it'd happen at some point.

Greg's laptop finally powered down and Greg stood, flipping the lid shut. He slid it and the chord into his backpack, took one last look around, and then left his childhood bedroom. He wouldn't be back for at least a few weeks.

He missed it already.

  
  


{oOo}

  
  


Mycroft's room had a large window with a tree to the left, his curtains a dark red that matched the quilt set he'd bought. A large desk with shelves above took up most of the left wall, his bed on the right, and the small wardrobe was at the end of the desk. Greg whistled as he took a look around. The room was a bit bigger than his own, which had one small window with the desk set up before it. Greg had more shelf-space, though, as well as a whiteboard.

'Mine's better,' he declared.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and dumped the box he was carrying on the desk. Greg had already emptied the box he was carrying, scattering jackets and jumpers all over the bare mattress. 'Are you going to help, Gregory, or just compare our living spaces?'

'Have you checked out the communal bathroom yet?'

'Not yet, no,' Mycroft said.

'My room has a mini-fridge,' Greg said, puffing his chest out.

'So does mine,' Mycroft drawled. He pointed to the top of his bed, where Greg could vaguely see the top of a small black fridge.

'Oh,' Greg said. 'Well, I'm gonna stuff mine with chocolate and soft drinks.'

'Of course you are,' Mycroft sighed. 'Gregory, we have two bedrooms to move into. Are you helping?'

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg huffed. 'Mum and Doctor Phil will be here soon. I'll go grab some more stuff.'

Greg and Mycroft had moved most of their things in Mycroft's Jaguar, but Maggie and Phil were bringing the rest of their stuff. They'd already been to Greg's room, where they'd dumped all his stuff before coming to Mycroft's. After putting everything away they were going to head back to St John's and spend the night there.

'Do you reckon we'll get in trouble for sleeping in each other's rooms?' Greg asked before he stepped out the door.

'As long as we spend _some_ time in our own rooms alone, and don't make too much noise, I don't think we'll cause any problems,' Mycroft said.

'Right,' Greg hummed. ''Cause, you know, it'd be just my luck to get kicked out of Oxford for sneaking my boyfriend into my room.'

'I attend the same university; it shouldn't be a problem,' Mycroft repeated.

'Yeah, yeah,' Greg said. 'As long as you take care of me when I get kicked out, it's all good,' he added, continuing to mutter to himself as he left. Mycroft just shook his head.

He was in the process of putting his jackets on hangers when there was a knock on the door. He looked up to see a tall teenager with dark red hair fidgeting on the doorstep.

'Can I help you?' Mycroft asked.

'Yes, sorry,' the boy said, and Mycroft's eyebrows climbed in surprise.

'Russian?' he asked.

The boy tilted his head before smiling. 'You have a good ear,' he said. 'Yes, I moved here from Ufa two years ago. I wanted to go back to Russia for university but my father is English and went to Cambridge.' He shrugged. 'I didn't want to go to Cambridge, Oxford seemed a better fit.'

Mycroft smiled and the other boy returned it.

'I came in to ask if you had scissors,' the Russian continued after a beat. 'I'm sure my mother used an entire roll of tape to close all my boxes.'

Mycroft chuckled and turned to hunt through the box of odds and ends he'd brought in earlier. He found a large pair of scissors Maggie must have chucked in- because Mycroft and Greg hadn't bothered taping any of their boxes shut- and turned to hand them to the taller boy. 'Here you are.'

'Thank you,' he said. 'I'm Yasha, by the way. Yasha Pavlov.'

'Mycroft Holmes,' Mycroft returned.

'Nice to meet you,' Yasha smiled.

Greg chose that moment to re-enter the room, grumbling and carrying a box of books. 'Seriously, Myc, did you bring _every_ book you own?'

'Hardly,' Mycroft drawled.

Greg swore beneath his breath before he spotted Yasha. 'Oh, hi,' he said, 'sorry about that.'

'Not a problem,' Yasha smiled. 'I just needed scissors.'

'Oh, cool,' Greg said. He dumped the box on the desk. 'Are you moving into Pembroke, too?'

'Yes,' Yasha said. 'I'm studying Modern Languages and Linguistics. I speak Russian, English and French, but I want to learn more.'

'Cool,' Greg repeated. 'I speak French. Mum's family was from France. Mycroft speaks French, too.'

'And a number of other languages,' Mycroft admitted.

Yasha looked impressed and said, 'We'll have to study together.'

'Definitely,' Mycroft said.

'Are you moving into Pembroke?' Yasha asked, question directed at Greg.

'Me? No,' Greg shook his head. 'I'm over at St John's, studying Human Sciences. I want to study Criminology when I'm done. I'm Mycroft's boyfriend so I'm helping him move in.'

The room went slightly tense for a beat, mostly because of Mycroft and Greg; both were used to having others look down on their sexuality, though Brighton had always been a very open place. Mycroft wasn't sure the same applied to Oxfordshire.

'I wish my boyfriend had helped,' was what Yasha said, breaking the silence. 'Alex just started upper sixth form, though, and his uncle wouldn't let him stay the night.'

'Have you been together long?' Greg asked as he started unloading books from the box he'd brought in. Mycroft smiled; Gregory was always very good at making new friends.

'Just over a year,' Yasha admitted. He moved to help Greg and the two fell into conversation quickly and easily, while Mycroft finished hanging up his jackets and folding his jumpers.

About half-an-hour passed before Yasha left, thanking them again and waving goodbye. Maggie and Phil walked in shortly after that, both carrying boxes. With their help Mycroft managed to get his room in order, and locked the door behind him when they left. Maggie had her arms wrapped around Greg all the way back to the car, and both she and her son were teary-eyed as they said their goodbyes. Mycroft didn't fair much better when it was his turn to hug Maggie, and he squeezed her tightly.

'Thank you. For everything,' he said.

Maggie smiled as she drew back. 'It was my pleasure, Mycroft. Have fun, study hard, and keep my boy safe.'

' _Mum_!' Greg groaned. 'I can take care of myself!'

'I know you can, love,' Maggie said. She ruffled his hair, then patted Mycroft on the shoulder. 'You two be good. And call a lot, okay? I want to hear all about your classes and everyone you meet.'

'Promise,' Greg said, diving in for one last hug. Eventually Maggie managed to pull herself away, and Greg and Mycroft watched her and Phil leave. Greg kept waving, even when Phil's car disappeared. Mycroft reached up to tangle their fingers together, and Greg bumped their hands against his thigh when he lowered them. 'M'gonna miss her,' he murmured.

'As will I,' Mycroft agreed. 'But we'll see her soon.'

'Yeah,' Greg said. 'And if we don't call every week she'll drive up here and embarrass us in front of everyone.'

Mycroft smiled. 'We'll visit next weekend,' he promised. 'We still have to pick up your bike, remember.'

Greg nodded. They'd left his bike at home, mostly because they wanted to drive to Oxford together, and because everything they needed was pretty much within walking distance of their two colleges. It remained to be seen whether or not Greg would bring his bike back after visiting Maggie on the weekend.

'Sherlock's visiting the weekend after that, right?' Greg asked.

'Yes,' Mycroft nodded. He squeezed Greg's fingers. 'Not everything has changed, Gregory.'

'Yeah, I know that,' Greg said, 'but a lot has. But, um... it's supposed to, right?' he questioned, turning to look at Mycroft. 'Part of growing up and all that.'

Mycroft just nodded again.

'M'glad you're here,' Greg said. 'I don't think I could've done this without you.'

'You would have been fine,' Mycroft replied. 'But I'm glad you're here, too.'

Greg smiled and leaned over to kiss him. When they broke apart, he said, 'Come on, let's get back to my room. Wanna try that restaurant we passed on the way?'

Smiling, Mycroft said, 'Sounds good,' and allowed Gregory to drag him towards his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** I tried to fit as much stuff in as possible; Greg and Dimmock hanging out, Sherlock and Mycroft and Greg, the old tea date and some adorable Mystrade. Hopefully you liked it :)
> 
> Anywho people, technically this is the last chapter. Only the epilogue is left and I've already written it. It's... done, actually. Over. Just gotta post it.
> 
> Dreamer


	105. Epilogue

_Beep-beep-beep-beep._

The shrill alarm pierced through the early morning, and the jumble of blankets on the bed twitched.

_Beep-beep-beep-beep._

There was a groan from Greg, who'd curled up in the middle of the single mattress when his bed partner had got up to shower. Greg didn't realise that until he peeled his eyes open.

_Beep-beep-beep-beep._

With a loud curse, Greg tried to untangle himself from the blankets twisted around his body and reach the alarm clock.

_BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-_

'You're a goddamn tramp!' Greg hollered as he finally flipped the switch. Some crappy pop song blared from the small speaker and Greg groaned; he _so_ didn't need some shitty boy band singing to him at...

'Eight-thirty?' Greg demanded, twisting around on the mattress. 'Who the fuck set the alarm for _eight-thirty_?'

'It wasn't set for eight-thirty,' Mycroft said as he peered around the wardrobe door. It'd been hiding him from Greg's sight and Greg blinked rapidly. 'Sorry,' he added when he saw that he had Greg's attention. 'I set it for eight and I've been up since then- I mustn't have turned the alarm off properly.'

'You gotta flick the little thing on the side,' Greg murmured. He reached for the clock again and made sure the alarm was off before sitting back on the bed. 'What are you doin' up?' he yawned.

'My first class starts at nine-thirty,' Mycroft said with a smile. The younger teen was looking at the mirror hanging from the wardrobe door and running his fingers through his hair.

'Oh, I forgot 'bout that,' Greg said. ' _My_ classes don't start 'til next week.' He gave Mycroft a cheeky smile when the red-head scowled at him, and flopped back onto the bed. 'I shouldn't be up!' he moaned.

'Well, you are,' Mycroft said, finally done fixing his hair. He closed the wardrobe door and approached Greg. 'We could get breakfast?' he suggested.

Greg giggled and shook his head from side to side. 'No, no, _no-no-no-no-nooo_ ,' he babbled. 'I ain't gettin' outta bed at eight-goddamn-thirty.'

'Not even for me?' Mycroft asked. He sat on the side of the bed and pouted down at his boyfriend.

'Nope,' Greg said. 'I'm a bitch like that.'

'And a bastard,' Mycroft said. 'Seriously, you won't have breakfast with me?'

'Um... you go get it, and come back, and we'll eat in bed,' Greg grinned.

'No.'

'Come _onn_ ,' Greg groaned. 'Skive and stay in bed with me. We can have wild, passionate monkey sex.'

'We stayed in bed for quite a while after we moved in,' Mycroft reminded him. 'Yesterday we did nothing but eat and shag in _your_ room. We annoyed your closest neighbour, remember?'

Greg groaned at the memory. Mycroft shared his floor with four other guys; Yasha the Russian, Marco who was also studying Maths, Tristan who was a bit of a weirdo, and Will, whom Greg was pretty sure was cooking pot brownies in the communal kitchen.

Greg had only met two of his own floor-mates, the other two so far remained nameless; Justin, the aforementioned neighbour who had glared at Greg at 3am when his and Mycroft's enthusiastic sex had woken him, and Jack, who was too busy thinking he was going to fail everything to really talk to anyone.

'So let's do it again!' Greg decided, shaking himself from his thoughts. 'Clearly you like it.'

'I have classes, Gregory.'

Greg groaned. 'You're no bloody fun.'

Mycroft smiled and leaned over to kiss him softly. Greg couldn't help but respond and the two lost a few minutes enjoying their early morning kiss.

When they broke apart, Greg asked, 'When are you free today?'

'Twelve-thirty to three,' Mycroft answered, 'so I'll be able to meet you for lunch if you want.'

'Mm, well...' Greg sat up and gave Mycroft a coy smile. Mycroft just raised an eyebrow. 'I can meet you at that café we went to our first day here, we can grab some lunch, have a nice, _loong_ shag afterwards-' Mycroft snorted, '-then I can hang out with Yasha until you're done for the day,' Greg continued. 'After that we go have a nice dinner, and more shagging.'

'Sounds wonderful,' Mycroft said and kissed Greg again. 'But Anthea and Sally will be joining us for dinner, I already confirmed it yesterday.'

'Mycroft!' Greg groaned.

'They're our friends.'

'I wanted to feel you up under the table,' Greg pouted.

'You still can,' Mycroft chuckled, 'just make sure it's _my_ leg.'

'Mm... 'kay,' Greg beamed.

Mycroft looked at his watch and cursed. 'I have to go,' he said as he grabbed his bookbag and BlackBerry. 'I want to get coffee and something to eat before class, otherwise I won't pay attention.'

'M'kay,' Greg said and finally pulled himself from bed. He followed Mycroft to the door and stood in the doorway.

There were a few people milling about he hallway- Yasha and Marco included- and each one of them hooted and made cat-calls when the couple appeared. Mycroft raised an eyebrow as he turned to face Greg.

'Oh,' Greg said, realising he was just in boxers. 'Well, now they know _exactly_ what you have access to,' he grinned.

Mycroft rolled his eyes but grabbed Greg by the back of the neck and tugged him closer for a hot, wet kiss that had Greg's legs buckling. He slumped against the door-frame and moaned, his fingers gripping Mycroft's shirt and pulling closer.

When they finally broke apart, Yasha clapped loudly, while Marco wolf-whistled.

'Bravo,' Yasha said.

'Really, well done, that was _way_ better than porn,' Marco added. He slapped Yasha on the shoulder and said, 'I bet your boyfriend never kisses you like that.'

Yasha rolled his eyes and Mycroft chuckled.

'I'll see you at lunch?' Mycroft asked, turning back to Greg.

'Yeah, just meet me at that café. Text me when you get outta class,' Greg said. He stood taller and licked his lips, savouring Mycroft's taste. 'Love you.'

'I love you, too,' Mycroft smiled. He pecked Greg on the lips and then walked towards the stairs, Greg watching his black, denim-clad arse disappear. He sighed softly and Yasha and Marco both _awwed_ , earning a middle finger from Greg as the brunet slammed the door shut.

Greg looked around Mycroft's small room. He'd made it more _his_ since moving in; a few posters, books lining the shelves, lamps that Maggie had bought as well as dark curtains and rumpled sheets. Greg smiled as he moved through the room, picking up a few DVDs and books that he and Mycroft had left lying around.

Despite its rather small size, Greg loved the room, and he loved his own, too. The beds were single, true, but it was just like living at home; they curled around each other at night, they discussed their upcoming classes, they pissed each other off and stormed out and travelled the ten minutes between their colleges to get some space... the only difference was the floor-mates, and the fact that Maggie wasn't there.

As Greg tidied up, sounds of people walking back and forth outside filtered through the walls. Greg wasn't used to there being so many people around, but he could sleep through anything. So he eventually abandoned his clean-up and, yawning, stumbled his way back to the bed. He fell face-first onto the unmade mattress, moaning as the warm, soft covers surrounded his body. He tugged the red duvet up and wrapped it around himself tightly.

Greg didn't have to get up any time soon; his classes didn't start for a week, he wasn't having lunch with his boyfriend- who he _still_ livedwith- for a few hours yet, and dinner with his mates wasn't until later that night. The people who lived around them didn't care that they were gay, there were even other gay and bisexual people on the same floor, and Greg and Mycroft were both prepared and excited to start their studies.

A smile made Greg's lips curl, even as he buried his face in the pillows that still smelled like Mycroft. It was good to be him.

  
  


_Fin._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** So, um... that's it. This story is now officially done. It took me almost three years, but I got it done. There's a lot of things I'd change if I could go back, but all in all I'm really happy with how the story turned out.
> 
> I want to thank everyone who reviewed on FF.Net and commented on AO3. Also thanks for adding this story to your alerts, subscriptions, and leaving kudos. I appreciate each and every one of my readers, even if they don't review/comment/etc. THANK YOU!
> 
> Also, a huge thank you to my wonderful betas; first, **chasingriver** , who helped so much with over half the story, making awesome suggestions and helpful comments. Also thank you to my other beta, **sofienolongerexists** , who offered to help when I really, really needed it. Without you two this story wouldn't be the same, so thank you so much for your support and help.
> 
> This story's playlist can be found on my Tumblr [here](http://ibegto-dreamanddiffer.tumblr.com/post/46416190197/give-me-a-label-playlist). I can't tell you how awesome I find it that there are more Living End fans out there thanks to this story. I love it!
> 
> And... that's it, I suppose. I still have plans to write the Johnlock side to this story, though it'll mostly be one-shots about the important stages in their relationship. Also, I'll most likely write some Mystrade drabbles here in there. I'm not quite done with this 'verse :)
> 
> Cheers,
> 
> IBegToDreamAndDiffer

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover Art for 'Sherlock: Give Me A Label (I'll Make Confetti)' by IBegToDreamAndDiffer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6189625) by [missmuffin221](https://archiveofourown.org/users/missmuffin221/pseuds/missmuffin221)




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